


Two Wheels Move the Soul

by purplelion



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Good Lotor, Lance has a sister and she's my baby, M/M, Mutual Pining, Piercings, Slow Burn, Smut, They're more like vigilantes than gangsters tbh, also she's dating Pidge, character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-04-21 06:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 104,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14279055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplelion/pseuds/purplelion
Summary: The Lions are the most notorious gang in all of San Francisco. When people all across their city start to go missing, Allura sends two of her toughest fighters to investigate and take down a human trafficking ring that had recently planted it's roots near their territory.But her biggest problem isn't taking down a bunch of criminals - it's getting two of her own to work together.Lance and Keith must simultaneously take down the trafficking ring, and also navigate their newfound partnership, while battling feelings neither one of them could have anticipated.





	1. You Give Love a Bad Name

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii!!! In case you can't tell I'm so freakin EXCITED cause I haven't posted a multi-chapter fic in like a year! I just haven't had any time, but I finally have a month or so between my next exams so I can post weekly. Check in every Friday for new chapters!  
>  \- A x
> 
> FIC WARNINGS: **Minor Character Death, Character Injury, Violence, Sexual Harassment** and **Explicit Sexual Content**
> 
> ✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧
> 
> Remember to leave any prompts you want me to write in the comments below :) Don’t be shy, I’m up for writing almost anything. You can also find me on [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/purplelion46), and I post updates of where I am on my fics on my [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/purplelion46/?hl=en) so check it out!

"This is so stupid, Lance."

They moved swiftly through the night, through back gardens and back alleys, feet like feathers against the pavement, tell-tale steps of well-trained combatants. The keenest eye may have spotted them, if only for a brief millisecond, as three shadows dancing along the San Francisco walls, the smallest shadow of them all mumbling discrepancies at the lankier silhouette in front of her. 

_'She's right, Blue.'_

Lance rolled his eyes as he and his two companions leaped over a decrepit wire fence, landing on sturdy knees. Hearing the other two touching down behind him he ran ahead, ducking behind the aged building of their destination. He crouched down beneath a yellow tinted window, hearing muffled footsteps behind him.

"Quiet, Allura, don't encourage her." He muttered under his breath as quiet as he could, feeling sharp fingernails dig into his sides.

"We already got the cash, why do you wanna confront the guy?"

Lance sighed, turning to his fiery eyed sister crouched behind him, somehow still balanced on her toes with both her arms crossed, glaring at him with the combined passion of all their Cuban ancestors.

"The man he killed had a family, Cat. Allura didn’t tell me that.” His eyes flashed fiercely, “Besides I told you guys you didn't have to come."

The shadowy figure behind Cat huffed, gloved hands coming up to pull back his hood, revealing eyes glowing yellowy amber in the pale summer night.

"Shut up, you know there's no way we were gonna let you do this alone. And Allura didn't tell you because she knew you'd do something stupid just like this!" Matt whisper-yelled, scowling as he reached into his pocket to yank out some flashy gadget, suctioning it to the adjacent wall. 

"Our client lost everything. So should he." Lance murmured, he and Cat holding their breath as Matt inputted several binary digits, a single heat signature flickering up on the screen.

"Well he's in the living room. Just remember don't-"

"Thanks Matt!" Lance called out, flipping his hood back up and pulling a piece of black fabric over his mouth, stepping back a few paces.

"Hermano idiota! You can't just-!" Cat yelled as Lance sprung forwards, curling his body into a bludgeoning shell and breaking down the barricades of the window panes. His companions sighed, pulling up their own disguises.

Matt huffed, "Guess we're going with the element of surprise." He rubbed at his brow as he pulled up his own hood.

"Allura's going to kill us." Cat mumbled with a sigh as they leaped over the window ledge on after the other, landing just behind Lance who glared down at a measly, balding man sprawled out on the floor in shock.

"Hey Mr Archuleta, sorry for the inconvenience but we're gonna rob you for a quick sec." Matt huffed, "Wasn't our first choice, believe me. You can blame Blue over there." He motioned to Lance.

Mr Archuleta gazed up at the trio as Lance stepped over him, purposely nicking the skin of his fingers with his boot. The older man grimaced, fighting the urge to hold his finger in pain, glaring after the tall, caramel skinned male.

"L-Look I don't know what you guys want with me but-"

Matt scowled, kneeling down to Mr Archuleta's level, reaching into his pant pocket, withdrawing a worn at the edges Polaroid he'd been handed by a teary widow had pressed into his hands a few hours earlier.

"Recognize this guy?"

Mr Archuleta's face went pale as he focused in on the photo, swallowing thickly.

"H-he looks familiar-"

"I bet you don't even know his name." Cat scoffed.

"His name is- _was_ Jeremy Callaghan. He and his wife owned a convenience store uptown. Before you robbed it last Friday and put a bullet through his head in the process, of course."

"He had a five-year-old, too. Though you probably didn't know that either." Lance added with a scowl as he kicked over an end table, small, framed photographs clattering to the floor, making Archuleta grimace.

Cat sighed, "You wanna do the honours, Blue?"

Lance smirked, "Awe, can't I have some fun, first?"

Cat rolled her eyes, flicking up the cover of her watch, "Come on, we already emptied his bank account, let's just tie him up and call the cops. The others are waiting back at home."

Archuleta's eyes went wide, "You _what-!?"_

"We took back all the money you stole. As well as all the rest. The least you can do for Mrs Callaghan." Matt frowned, "And unless you want Blue here to give you a few medical bills to pay with the money you _don't_ have, I'd shut the fuck up."

Archuleta frowned, as if mimicking a mouse shut in a trap. Lance scanned the room, pocketing any small, valuable objects he could find. Cat retrieved some slim, black zip-ties from her own jacket, restraining Mr Archuleta's hands to the end table Lance had kicked her way. 

"I called Shiro, we better get going." Matt piped up just as Cat had finished tying Archuleta's legs and taping his mouth, the mousy man at her feet squirming in his curtailments. Lance took slow steps towards him, crouching down and tilting his chin up so they were eye to eye.

"Diviértete en el infierno, bastardo." He hissed, spitting at the man's bound feet before springing up, motioning to the door, “Ladies first.”

His sister patted his arm before sprinting out, Lance and Matt right on her tail. 

Twilight had already come and gone, making it easier to stay concealed as the city flickered blue and yellow, police cars zooming past beneath them. Lance gazed down at the beloved city he called home as it flashed past beneath his feet, taking in the familiar stores and apartment blocks. They came to a stop on the roof of an old, graffitied warehouse, clutching their knees as they caught their breath.

Matt yanked out his phone, sliding off his gloves to tap open his texts, "Shiro says they just arrived at the station, they don't have any idea it was us. Iverson’s going crazy." He grinned between pants.

Cat smirked, “Iverson is an idiot.”

They chuckled, grabbing their stomachs as they fought to catch their breath. Lance’s eye caught on the hefty black bag on Matt’s back, sighing.

"You guys go on ahead,” Lance motioned over to the west of town, in the general direction of where they were based, “I have one last thing to do."

Cat smiled over at him, grabbing his chin and patting his cheek.

"Esta bien hermano." She kissed his cheek, backing away and swinging off the hang of the building onto the next rooftop. Lance watched her as she leaped from terrace to terrace, knocked from his reverie by Matt's hand on his shoulder.

"See you back at Altea?"

"Sure." Lance nodded, "You got the stuff?"

Mat tossed over the duffel bag that had been looped round his shoulders, shaking out the numbness in his neck. A few seconds later he disappeared the same way Cat had gone, leaving Lance alone on the rooftop. He sighed, breath misting in the early morning air, closing his eyes for a few seconds to bathe in the lack of pollution that hung in the thin breeze.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, glancing down at the address he'd already committed to memory, perhaps just to once again remind himself of its importance. He took off in the opposite direction to where his companions had gone, dead East, further and further away from home with every building he crossed, but closer and closer to where he knew he needed to be.

When he finally reached the white picket fence he'd first laid eyes on a couple hours before, he pushed the wrought iron gate open with a creak, boots crunching against the pale pebble pathway. He caught sight of the kitchen of the house through an illuminated window. A thin-faced woman wrapped up in a shawl was hunched over the chequered counter, flipping through a worn notepad, hundreds of number digits stacked up on the lines. She rubbed at her temple tiredly, grief stricken and exhausted.

With a few breaths Lance dropped the duffel bag onto the welcome mat, rapping quickly on the door before darting back up the pathway, ducking into some nearby bushes, weedy enough he could glimpse through the branches as the woman pulled the front door open, peeking around the corners before she finally laid eyes on the bag.

A small smile graced Lance's lips as her own fell wide open, one hand clutching wads of cash he and Matt had stuffed into the bag earlier, the other a small, folded note he had slipped in along with it.

_'We're sorry for your loss. Though we cannot replace your husband, this should be enough to put your son through college.'_

Her hands clapped over her mouth as her eyes danced across her lawn, searching for something- searching for _him._ But his job was done, and getting involved with clients- no, clients getting involved with _him,_ never ended well.

He crawled out of the bush the moment her door clicked shut, pulling his hood back over his head as he prepared for his journey back to Altea, moon hanging like a stage prop over his head, providing solemn lighting to match his expression.

Another family saved. Now back to his own.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Altea smelt like home, a scent that hit him hundreds of feet away from the entryway, inhaling with a smile the familiar whiskey and smoke smell that curled around the orange lighting illuminating the bar. Peanut shells littered the greasy bar and table tops, all re-purposed driftwood that started its life suspended between two oil drums on the beach.

As soon as the door swung open he was hit with hundreds of voices in conversation, all of them competing with the rock music that dominated the surrounding atmosphere. He took his first step over the threshold with a forceful thud, his boots ricocheting against the hardwood floor. 

The bar erupted into a roaring cheer, swooping through the air like an eagle on updraft. Lance grinned all around at his closest friends, the bunch of mislead misfits he called family.

"The prodigal son returns!" Cat beamed over at him from the bar, hoodie gone so her tawny hair cascaded over her shoulder, highlighting her caramel coloured skin, and legs crossed in a way that was both business like and warned off anyone who took her lacy crop tops and petite stature as a sign of weakness.

"Good job out there, Lance." Shiro clapped a hand to his shoulder, gesturing to Pidge behind the bar, the small brunette's hands hidden beneath the sleeves of the oversized green sweater she wore.

"One red-headed slut for the man of the hour." Pidge slid a shot glass dripping with condensate towards Shiro, who thrust it into Lance's hand. Lance downed the shot with a grin, licking the wetness from his lips as it left a burning trail down his throat.

"Mrs Callaghan called up a little while ago, crying with happiness. You did good, hermano." Cat tousled his hair, carding her scarily long claws through his hair, her middle and pointer finger filed down and catching on the snags.

"You better grow those nails out real soon, _ramera."_ Lance grumbled, eyeing the smug looking girl behind the bar, "Pidget has corrupted you."

"Aw, bebé pobre, you'll find someone to cut your nails for too someday." Ariana patted his cheek with a kiss.

"Har har. Oi, Hunk!" He shouted across the bar to the tall man near the jukebox. Hunk waved over with his brow cocked questionably.

"Give me a beat." Lance grinned.

Cat rolled her eyes as Lance grabbed onto her hand, pulling her off her perch, "So corny."

Lance chuckled as he and Cat started to sway, Tears for Fears booming through the openings of the bar. Lance and Cat had perfected their own type of dance over the years, giving their own Cuban flare to their favourite 80s hits. They advanced, retreated, pirouetted, their arms waving from side to side above their heads, their hips swaying, their clothes fluttering. Pidge and Hunk slowly ambled over and separated the siblings, Hunk capturing Lance in an exaggerated slow dance while Pidge and Cat kicked around playfully.

Then came a screeching of tyres from outside, and the scattering of pebbles under burnt rubber. The four of them glanced towards the door glowing yellow from raring headlights, turning back to the usual worn brown the same time a rumbling engine cut out.

Pidge ran over to the back door, the absence of her shoes sensing her skidding past the frame, a large grin spreading across her cheeks as she caught sight of the red and black motorcycle parked at the entrance, calling out towards the small pavilion surrounded by greenery the words Lance dreaded every few weeks.

"Keith's back!"

"Lance..." Cat said in a warning tone, watching as a scowl burst over Lance's face as the sound of boots crunching on the gravel reached their ears.

"Stupid mullet-"

"Come on, Lance, Keith's cool." Cat berated, punching her brother's arm admonishingly.

Lance frowned, "Who the hell does he think he is-?"

"Lance, don't." Hunk cut in, "It's barely morning just let-"

Their gazes are snapped to the door as the handle turned and it swung open, revealing none other than Keith Kogane, looking like hell-just-off-wheels, hair windswept and tied into a tight ponytail, helmet tucked under his arm, pressed against a red flannel tied around his jean-clad hips, topped off with shin high boots he'd purposely left partly untied. _Wow, Keith, real punk rock._

He smiled when Pidge approached him, hooking an arm around her shoulder as she embraced him with a grin, his long-sleeved sweater hitching up to reveal a sliver of soft, pale stomach. Lance glowered in the corner against the jukebox, watching a beaming Shiro crash into his favourite student.

"How was Milan?" Shiro grinned, clamping a hand on Keith's shoulder.

Lance watched on from the corner as the entire bar flocked over to Keith, seeking insight to his latest exotic trip. Slowly, Lance made his way over too, standing over Cat to glare down at the raven-haired biker holding all the attention in the room.

"Look who finally showed up."

The bar fell into silence as all eyes snapped to the vexed Cuban looming over the crowd, eyes boring furiously into Keith, arms folded. 

"Lance, not now." Shiro grabbed hold of his shoulder, "You can hash it out with Keith as soon as he's settled back in."

"Yeah? For how long?" Lance scowled, "He'll only be here a few days, a few weeks at most, then he'll disappear again and leave us to handle all the clients."

Shiro sighed, the crowd slowly dissipating as the tension grew further and further. They knew better than to get in the way of a Lance and Keith brawl. Keith gazed up at Lance the same way he always did when they fought- with utter exasperation. 

"I haven't been on _vacation,_ Lance." He frowned.

"You can't just leave for Milan while we work hard to help people, then show up weeks later and have everyone throw you a freakin' party!" Lance growled, stepping forwards so they were toe-to-toe. Keith's bright indigo eyes glared up at him from a few feet below, animated a dancing above a poised scowl.

"It was important. I had to go out of town.”

"You're always out of town!" Lance exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. Before Keith could even open his mouth to respond, Shiro stepped between them, one palm on each of their chests.

"Okay lets all just calm down." He huffed, "Lance why don't you grab Cat and get back home?"

"Why do _I_ have to leave?!" Lance flung his arms out.

"Oh, so _I_ should?" Keith exclaimed, the two engaging in a flurry of bickering, Shiro's job of keeping them apart getting harder and harder. That's when they heard a door in the back crash open, revealing their fiery leader, ears tinted red with fury.

She wore her silver hair in her signature braid, one that could strike fear into the hearts of their enemies with a single flick. She always found new ways to wear it, today letting half hang loose on one side of her head so she could tuck the braid into her long hair over one shoulder, embellished with a flower she picked from her garden, as it was every day, the same brown as her mocha skin with a patch of pink sprouting from the pollen.

Her lips pulled in a frown as she glowered at the two boys, bangled wrist on her hip, decked out in ripped jeans, a crop top and a leather jacket. Lance and Keith gulped in synch, backing away from each other as Allura fixed them with a scowl.

"Boys can I see you quick?" She growled through gritted teeth, jamming her thumb over her shoulder, motioning to her office. Keith huffed, nudging past Lance, shoulder knocking into his upper arm. Lance glared at him, eyes honing in on the thin black choker nestled against his collar bone above the neck of his black sweater. He scowled. 

Hot jerk.

The settled at opposite ends of the room, Shiro entering after them, leaning against the door. One may have mistaken him as Allura's back up for when things got out of hand, but they all knew who the true muscle was in the room, and she was currently resting her butt on the desk, glaring between Keith and Lance.

"You boys are my best fighters, next to Shiro. So, I expect you to be goddam _professional."_ She went right in without even a soft introduction, hard as nails. Lance and Keith flinched.

"Sorry Allura." They grumbled in tandem, still glowering at each other from the opposite two walls. The brunette sighed, folding her leather clad arms.

"You two have been at it for years, isn't it time to get over this?"

Again, they both shrugged, impartial. Shiro huffed, looking between them disappointedly.

"Look, the real reason we brought you guys in here is because Allura just got a call about an observation job uptown."

The boys perked up at that, pushing off their respective walls.

"I'll do it." They were in synch a final time, eyes snapping to each other as they both spoke.

"Why the hell should you do it? You just finished a job." Keith frowned, crossing his arms, sweater drooping around his shoulders.

"You've been gone for _weeks,_ there's no way you can just show up a take a job from me!" Lance exclaimed, and they began bickering once again. Allura massaged her temple with her fore and middle fingers, taking deep breaths while Shiro's head fell forwards and he sighed.

"Enough!” Allura yelled, casting the room back into silence, “You think I called you in here just for you to fight over a job?" She scowled, stamping her foot, "No, this is a two-man job and since Shiro is busy with work, you're the two best fighters to take it."

Lance and Keith paled, having crossed the room to yell in each other's faces, now standing together in front of Allura. They spun round to her, mouths open.

"You mean you want us to-"

"-work _together?"_ Keith finished, resting his hands on the table, "No way. I'm doing it myself."

Lance shook his head in objection, "Uh-uh, _I'm_ doing it, with Cat. You work better on solo jobs."

Keith scowled, rolling his gaze over to Lance, "I can do this myself." He growled, "Besides Cat is trained for combat jobs, not observations."

"Don't act like you know my sister!” Lance glowered, “You're never here! How can you know what jobs she prefers?"

"Would you two just cut it out!?" Shiro interjected, "You're _both_ going on the job. You two have _got_ to learn to work together, and this mission is the perfect way to do it."

They remained silent, digging their nails into their palms and biting their tongues as Allura settled behind her desk, sighing as she rested her head in her palms.

"Like it or not, we’re a family,” Shiro continued, “And unless you two can start cooperating you’ll _both_ be out of here. Understand?”

It was an empty threat, they knew. Shiro had been the one to take the both of them under his wing and would never allow them to stray from the path he’d carved for them. Nonetheless, they both nodded in a small, grumbled agreement.

"Fine, give us the brief." Lance huffed, plopping into a threadbare leather armchair opposite Allura, glancing up at Keith who stayed standing for a while longer. The raven gave a desperate glance at Shiro, who fixed him with a firm nod.

Finally, Keith gave in, exhaling as he slowly lowered into the chair next to Lance, sitting precariously on the edge, elbows resting on his knees.

"The tip came from a Mr Abbot whose daughter went missing last week. We linked her disappearance with that of over ten others in San Francisco the past few weeks." Allura began, pushing a yellow file over to Lance and Keith.

"We've had a fluctuation of missing persons cases over the past few months, steadily increasing. There have been over thirty this month. It all ties back to one woman-" Shiro flipped the file over to the third page, stabbing his finger into a black and white photo, "-Faith Black."

"According to Shiro's man on the inside she runs a human trafficking ring downtown, not too far from here. She sells people for anything, from sex slaves to child workers."

Lance turned his nose up at the photo, slamming the file shut, "So what, you want us to take her out?"

Allura sighed, taking the file back, "There's the problem. Faith is high profile in the gang world. Killing her would only evoke backlash - she has some powerful allies.” She explained, rubbing the left side of her temple, “No, for now I just want you guys to investigate. Lotor has offered us any resources we need."

Lance reeled back with a sneer, "Since when are you and the son of The Galra leader sittin' in a tree?"

Allura sighed, "Lotor isn't part of the Galra. He wants to take Faith down just as much we do."

Lance turned his nose up, scowling.

"Fine, but I don't trust him as far as I can throw him."

"Well that ain't far." Keith mumbled, feeling Lance glaring into the side of his head.

"You two can arrange a stake out whenever you want to, this mission is in your hands.” Allura batted the air with her hand, dismissing them, “You can go."

Keith sprung out of his chair, swinging around the frame of the door towards the exit of the bar. 

Lance stormed out after him, "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

Allura sighed, resting her head against her desk mournfully. Shiro stepped forwards, patting her on the shoulder, "Think they can do it?"

She leaned back in her chair, staring out the door the boys had just disappeared through, "They have to. They're the only two who can do this." She let out a frustrated 'argh' sound, blinking up to Shiro, "There's no chance you can do this with them?"

Shiro smiled sympathetically, "Sorry, Allura. But don't worry, I think they'll be able to do it."

Her eyebrows steeped, "Really?"

He gazed out the door to the boys stood bickering with a soft smile, "Yeah."

Lance took hastening steps towards Keith, who'd just saddled his bike, breath fogging the air ahead of him past seeing the moment the crisp morning breeze hit him. Keith revved his engine, eyes going wide and foot slamming on the brake as Lance skidded in front of his bike, halting his pathway to leaving.

"What the hell, man?” Lance threw his arms out, “Look, believe me I'm not jumping for joy over this either, but we have a job to do, and we're not gonna get it done if you're riding off into the sunset every five minutes."

Lance saw Keith frown through his helmet, raising his gloved hand off of the handle to press a small black button on the side, his visor flipping up.

"Clearly you're not the best at communication either, so I'll just tell you what's going to happen-" Keith scowled, “We're going to get this done as quick as possible. We can meet for stakeouts until we get enough info to take Faith down, and then we'll never have to speak to each other again." Keith outstretched his hand, "Deal?"

Lance eyed up the gloved palm for a second before shaking it firmly, noticing the snug way Keith's hand fit into his own, "Fine, but at least give me your number so we can set a date for a stake out."

Keith fished his phone out of his pocket with a sigh, Lance doing the same. They swapped phones disdainfully, Keith rolling his eyes at Lance's phone background, featuring a hippo riding a Shark into the sunset. Lance angrily stabbed his digits into a new contact, pressing Keith's phone back into his palm.

"Okay so when do-" Lance began, cut off by the rumble of Keith's engine coming to life. Keith flipped his visor back down, revving his engine. Lance barely had a second to jump out of the way before he was speeding off, blowing gravelly dust into Lance's eyes, leaving Lance's mouth open, still waiting to finish his sentence.

Lance scoffed after Keith, eyes wide in disbelief, “What a _dick.”_ He mumbled angrily to himself.

He shook the gravelly dust out of his hair, stomping back into the bar, eyes adjusting from the contrast of the bright, early morning sun to the dim bar lights. He plodded over to Pidge and Cat, collapsing into the bar stool he'd engraved his name into years ago, claimed as his own.

"I quit." He grumbled, slamming his forehead onto the bar. Pidge frowned down at the bill, putting down the glass she'd been wiping down with a cloth.

"What was all that about?" She nodded over to the door he'd flown through, picking up another dripping glass from the sink benhind the bar.

"Allura paired me and the mullet up for a mission." He huffed.

Cat reeled back, brows raising, "Is she insane!? You'll rip each other's heads off before you're ten minutes in!"

Lance glowered at her, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

She bit her lip, rubbing his shoulder, "You know what I mean. I just don't understand why she'd pair you guys together, of all people."

Lance sighed, spinning a glass Pidge had just placed down in his hands, "There's a high profile human trafficking case she wants us to look into, and since Shiro's busy with work at the station, me and Keith are the next two best fighters she has." He released a frustrated noise, "He’s such a fucking asshole - as soon as we were briefed he just ran out."

Pidge shrugged, "Well you've been kind of a dick to him the entire time you've known him. Did you expect him to want to sit down for a friendly chat?"

Lance reeled back, _"Me?_ He's the one that's never around while we work our asses off! I don't get why everyone loves him so much." He scowled.

Cat shrugged, licking butter off her finger from the bagel she was eating, "Keith's cool. He brings presents and rides a motorcycle."

Lance glared at his sister, kicking her shin under the table. She yelped, pouting as she rubbed her jean clad skin, "So abusive." She whimpered as her girlfriend fiercely hit Lance with a towel.

"Look," Pidge frowned, "No matter your feelings towards Keith, you have an important job to do. You've got to put everything else aside."

"I tried!" He exclaimed, "But he just drove away on that damn bike that _so_ isn’t as cool as he thinks it is.”

Cat sighed, comforting her brother with a hand on his back.

"You'll get it done, big brother, you always do. And who knows, maybe you and Keith will make a good team?"

Lance sucked on his teeth mournfully, glancing up at his baby sister.

"I seriously doubt that."


	2. Blue Monday

Lance took a deep inhale, hearing the car engine as it sung along with the lone country roads, relishing in the roaring winds that whipped his hair against his forehead and whistled in his ears. There was a chill biting at his arms, but it was so worth it to just feel the world around him, feel _alive_ amongst the breeze and the hot summer sun.

He glanced over at Cat, aviators perched on her freckled nose as she took in every tree that flashed past, camera gripped tightly in her hands. She wore one of Pidge's baggy shirts, long enough to feign a dress, cardigan tied around her waist to show off her inherited curves. 

Lances eyes caught on her hands, her left in particular, where a detailed night sky covered the majority of the back of her hand down to her wrist, curling around the skin like a permanent bracelet. That one represented her girlfriend, a hundred miles away by now. Beneath her shirt he knew she wore one for him, one of the ocean, covering her right shoulder and back. The very soul of the two most important people in her life, etched into her skin. It was poetic, really, and Lance hadn't objected when she'd asked to get them.

"Are you excited?" He asked when they slowed, the wind hitting them softer, so he could be heard over the gusts. She grinned over at him, snapping a quick picture before he could blink behind his sunglasses.

"Of course, I wonder if she made boliche." She mused, turning back to the scenery.

"Ay," Lance batted her round the head, "You should be excited to see abuelita not her cooking." He scolded teasingly, choosing to ignore the tongue Cat gave him in response.

Slowly the barren, dusty wastelands morphed into small houses, most only one story, with a mix of old iron and white picket fences. He was home, returning to the same streets and houses, to the same people. They dined out front and waved as they drove past, all acquaintances of Lance and Cat's family.

Lance couldn't stop the grin on his face from appearing when they finally rounded a corner revealing a small, white house at the end of the road. The door was already open, a slim, petite, light skinned woman in the frame. Her hair was greyer than Lance remembered, but the mocha colour he and his sister had inherited was still present, refusing to be discoloured by old age.

He swung the car around to park it in front of the house, leaping out of his seat, not bothering to open his door and instead hurdling out, hearing his sister not far behind him as he tackled the tiny woman he loved so dearly, accented chuckles ringing out like little bells in his ear.

"También es bueno verte, mis queridos." She laughed as Cat's slimmer hands came around her and Lance. She gasped as she caught sight of Cat, lightly slapping her wrist.

"Catalina you are far too skinny; your mother would be disappointed in me." Her grandmother scolded, thick Cuban accent making her words gravely and rugged, pulling her grandchildren in with the strength of a young, buff man rather than an old, frail lady.

"Si, si, lo siento, abuelita." Cat grumbled as their grandma took them into the kitchen, pressing a cookie into her hand with a smile. It was strange, being back at their childhood home. It hadn't been long since their last visit, but there was always something different each time he came home. Some were small, like a new set of dining chairs, or a new cross over the television. But some left gaping holes behind that couldn't be replaced, like the absence of their grandfather.

Lance had been only sixteen years old when his parents passed away. Their grandparents had taken custody of them, not hesitating to move over from Cuba to care for their grandchildren. Lance and Cat's rooms were still exactly as they were- they'd moved to San Francisco shortly after Lance turned eighteen, taking full custody of Cat.

The house was littered with fallen leaves from the chestnut tree outside, bathing it in red and orange during the autumn. It smelled like lavender, the delicate blooms all around the house in old mason jars, matching the purple furniture, with his grandfathers mismatched leather recliner in the corner. His head almost reached the roof now, white and jagged like dried oatmeal, while the radio played soft Cuban melodies, the smell of his grandma's cooking filling his nose.

Other than the several crosses and the framed photo of the pope, his home didn't give away his heritage too much, but his grandmother definitely did.

"Mi chico lindo," His grandmother patted his cheeks, "You look well, how is Shiro?"

"He's good, abuelita. He sends his love."

His tiny grandmother nodded, plopping into the armchair just off of the kitchen. Lance and Cat collapsed into the squishy couch next to her, Cat munching on her cookie. Their grandmother reached besides her for a half-finished sweater she'd presumably been knitting just before they arrived.

"Such a sweet boy, I'll send you back with some pastelitos, that man does not eat enough." She tutted, "That silly job of his."

"Yes, abuelita." Lance said, knowing better than to argue with the fiery woman. For such a small lady, she held a lot of rage. She blamed it on ‘the fury of her Cuban ancestors,’ but Lance and Cat agreed she just needed to stop knitting- it infuriated her to no extent.

"I'll make sure to pack some for Katie, too, she's thinner than _you_ Catalina. You have been feeding her, yes?"

Cat rolled her eyes, "She can feed herself, abuela. She's an adult."

Her grandma bat her with a knitting needle, "Mal cubana! You must keep tu novia healthy! Don't want her getting ill, like your abuelo."

Lance chuckled, "Abuelo had Alzheimer's, he wasn't malnourished. How could he be, with you around?" He teased, and his grandmother scoffed at him.

"You should stop teasing your abuelita, or I'll stop feeding you too." She threatened, shutting him up, turning back to her knitting, "And how is work, mis queridos? Are you being safe?"

Lance and Cat rolled their eyes- they'd expected the subject of their work to come up, just not so soon. Now she'd be nagging the rest of the night.

"It's fine, abuelita, you should stop worrying about us." Lance smiled, "We look after each other. In fact, Catalina helped me on a job the other day." He said proudly.

 _"I_ helped _you?"_ His sister scowled at the use of her full name, and he dug his elbow into her side. If she brought up that they had actually _faced_ the perp they were after it would for sure kill their grandmother, who was under the impression they were more like modern day Sherlock Holmes', helping the police with cases. It wasn't _not_ true, that was technically their job description- most of the time. Lance just had a tendency to go against the rules.

"It would give your mother a heart attack if she knew of all the things you two do." Their grandmother shook her head, "Did you at least help the client?"

Cat nodded, "It was a widow. We helped her get her money back, and then some. You really have nothing to worry about, abuelita." She assured, patting her grandmother's frail wrist.

"Ay, I know, but I love you, mis cariños." She smiled, stroking Cat's glossy hair. "You both look just like her." She seemed lost in thought for a moment, fingers paused in Cat's hair as she just gazed at her granddaughter, then over to Lance, who smiled, letting the woman reminisce for a while.

"Oh, abuelita, Lance just got assigned a new job." Cat suddenly spoke up, "He's helping Shiro with a missing persons case."

Their grandmother's eyes widened, and she smiled, "That is good, yes? Shiro is giving you more responsibility." She patted his hand, clasping it with her own.

Lance huffed, falling back into the plush couch cushions, the thick, feathery pillows almost encompassing his whole body, "Ay, abuelita, but he gave me a partner, and he's _awful."_ Lance pictured Keith's pale skin and evocative frown, feeling his blood boil.

His grandmother frowned, "Surely he can't be that bad, chiquito." 

“Trust me abeulita, he is," Lance scoffed, "He never turns up for work, his only friend is Shiro, he lives alone and never talks to anybody, and he rides a _motorcycle,_ like some second-rate Barry Sheene." He released a tiny 'argh' sound as he listed off Keith's negative attributes with his fingers, _"And_ he has a stupid haircut. He's _infuriating."_

His grandmother smiled softly, sighing a little, “It seems this chico is very lonely, no? Maybe you should try being his friend?” She reasoned, resting her knitting on her lap.

Lance reeled back, “Abuelita did you not hear anything I just said?”

His grandmother tilted her head sympathetically, “You told me he lives alone, and he only talks with Shiro. It sounds to me like he needs some other friends, but since he's probably been alone all his life, he doesn't know how to make them himself.” She patted his chin with her papery hand, “Give him a chance, amor. Who knows, maybe you’ll find something beneath the surface."

The conversation ended there, but Lance was mulling over her words for the rest of the evening, even well into the night after they'd eaten dinner, and he and Cat were preparing for the drive home. He'd described Keith by an onslaught of words, but 'lonely' had never popped into his head. He just figured Keith was some emo loner boy, but now he thought about it, whenever Shiro wasn't around, Keith only really talked to Pidge. Surely he must be lonely, Lance realized, just him and his apartment and his bike as company.

He and Cat jumped into his car at around eight, Cat snatching the car keys from him before he could even try and get into the driver's seat. She was, so far, the only other person he allowed to drive his beloved Blue, a classic Cadillac with white racing stripes on the bonnet.

They were shouting goodbye to their grandmother well up the street, right up until they rounded the corner and she disappeared out of sight. They drove in silence for a little while, ambling up the road. It was a three-hour drive back home, so they had plenty of time to talk later.

It had begun to rain, so Lance had long since put the roof up, water droplets hitting the car windows as they drove onwards. The skies were overhung, making it impossible to differ the sky and the clouds. Despite the tedious journey ahead, the water calmed him, creating webs and streams in front of him, racing down the windows.

Cat hummed along to the radio, sparing a glance at her brother every now and then. Lance could sense she had something to say, blinking over at her, "What?"

She shrugged, "I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about what abuelita said. You've been tense all evening."

He swallowed, turning back to the window, "I didn't realize you noticed."

She smiled, punching his arm playfully, "You practically raised me, I know you well enough to see when somethings bothering you."

He sighed, tipping his head back in his seat, squinting to make the road ahead of him blur in and out of focus. He inhaled and exhaled once, before turning to his sister.

"What do you think I should do?"

She sucked her lip into her mouth contemplatively, tapping against the wheel of the car with her hand. She fiddled with what to say, constructing her answer for a moment before finally answering.

"What do you _want_ to do?" She questioned, "If you had a choice, I mean."

He huffed, sinking lower in his chair, mulling over her counter question. He was forever stuck between what he wanted and his duty, to The Lions, to his family, and to his clients. He hadn't wanted to become a guardian to his sister. He hadn't wanted to hurt people just to put enough food on the table to keep them alive. He _hadn't wanted_ any of the troubles that fell irrevocably into his lap, all the things he became responsible for.

He hadn't wanted anything to ever change.

But he'd chosen to do what he must, rather than what he desired, to keep his family alive. Before Shiro had rescued he and Cat from the streets, he'd been in a bad place, beckoned into the darker lifestyle of taking money from any client that came his way, torturing and beating and _killing_ to make his way in the world, to protect his family.

The Lions had taken him in unquestionably, Cat too, and he owed them everything- he owned Allura and Shiro _everything._ They set him on the right path, gave him jobs to help and protect people, helping to sustain his well-being, and Cat's too eventually. They taught him to never look back on the stranger he was to himself that first year in the city. They reinvented him, so who was he to go against what they said?

Forever stuck between duty and desire.

"If I had the choice... I wouldn't do it at all." He swallowed, a small smile gracing his mouth, "I would get the car, and drive us far away, somewhere sunny. Maybe we could go visit Cuba, or buy a place in New York- I know how much you love it there." He didn't let himself sink into the daydream too much, turning to give Cat a small, sad turn of his lips, "But I promised Shiro, and Allura, and I don't want to let them down."

Cat gazed at him dolefully, sliding one hand off the wheel to take hold of his fingers. They drove another two minutes in silence, cherishing each other's company, neither one of them willing to let go of the other's hand. Finally, Cat gave his hand a final squeeze, sighing.

"I think abuelita is right." She said firmly, the few minutes of silence assisting her conclusion, "I think Keith could do with another friend. He's been through a lot."

Lance cocked his brow, "Like what?"

She shrugged, "I'm not totally sure. Abuse, of some sort, I guess. Shiro's so tight lipped about Keith's past and how he ended up joining, and I'm not close enough to Keith to bring it up myself. He and Shiro are the only two that know."

Lance huffed, “So how am I meant to become his friend if I don’t know anything about him?” He scowled, elbow resting on the window so he could cup his chin with his palm sulkily.

"Well stop calling him ‘mullet’ for starters.” Cat teased jokingly, “Then, just try talking to him about normal things- tell him about abuelita, and your car, and hopefully the conversation will just go from there.”

Lance sucked on his teeth doubtfully, knees jumping in place as he deliberated with himself. It wouldn't do any harm to try- right?

"Fine," He mumbled, "I'll stop being such a dick to Keith. The job is more important anyways."

Cat smiled at him, ruffling his hair up a little with one hand, "That's my brother."

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

For Keith, waking up was no longer a pleasure like it was when he was younger. It was an alarm clock, not his mother that woke him up, and rather than the energy he'd once had, he was stuck with aching limbs most mornings.

Karma of the night before.

He blindly reached next to him for last night’s culprit, but he'd long been gone, leaving the space next to Keith cold and unslept in.

He squinted as his eyes cracked open, sun sneaking through the disheveled blinds he'd been thrown up against the night before. Squeezing his eyes shut again he patted his bedside table a few times, searching for the cool metal of his phone.

The screen dimly told him it was early in the morning, closer to seven or eight he was unsure, bleary eyes unable to catch the other two digits over the colon. Two messages were displayed beneath. He saw Shiro's name straight away, but the other was from a number he didn't quite recognize, the display name reading 'Sharpshooter.'

He flipped through his memories from last night, wondering if he'd accidentally given his number to last night's conquest. He remembered being drunk enough to make stupid decisions, but not drunk enough to make _really_ stupid decisions.

He opened Shiro's first, skimming through a short message asking him to lunch. He tapped out a reply, agreeing to meet him in half an hour, shooting a similarly short, but sweet message. Flipping back he opened the other text, sighing exasperatedly.

Lance.

**“It’s Lance, I just got the file Shiro sent over with Faith’s details. Text me when your free so we can set up at time to stake out her apartment.”**

Despite rolling his eyes at the contact name, Keith was surprised to find no hints of the usual resentment or mockery in the text. Checking the time, he decided to answer it later, having only twenty-eight minutes left before he was due to meet Shiro.

His whole body screamed in protest as he pulled himself from bed, limping over to his closet, testing out his uncooperative limbs. He slowly threw on a white tank top with some band symbol on it and some ripped jeans, as well as his beloved leather jacket. 

It suddenly occurred to him the strange feeling in his mouth, like he'd forgotten to swallow some food, quickly remembering that he’d put in his piercing the night before. It always helped bed someone quick enough to grab some dinner after. He ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling the familiar clacking, deciding to keep it in rather than go through the hassle of disinfecting everything.

When he finally reached his bedroom door it crossed his mind he probably still smelled and looked like sex, and he didn't have any time to shower. With an irritated huff he sprayed himself with some cheap cologne and tugged on a black beanie, glimpsing in the mirror. Thankfully it covered all his unwashed hair well enough, just his fringe and the ends of his raven locks peeking out.

Grabbing his keys his eyes caught on a piece of paper on the nightstand, a common occurrence after a night out. There was a number scribbled over it, along with a name he hadn't bothered to learn the first time. He crumbled it into a ball, tossing it into the trash can in his porch as he passed it.

It’s better for them to not get attached.

He fished his phone out of his pocket as he pulled his apartment door shut, texting Shiro a quick _'On my way'_ before tucking it away in his jacket again.

He ran down the apartment stairs, shooting Barbara from 2b a quick wave as he passed, giving her a hand getting her bags into the elevator before pushing the main door open. He suddenly regretted not pouring himself a coffee as the morning sun hit him, nursing his post-coital-post-drunk headache.

He glanced towards his bike for a second, itching to jump on the saddle, but decided against it, his limbs suddenly screaming with pain as if they could understand what he was thinking. Luckily at that moment a bus was approaching the stop over the street, so, darting between traffic, Keith fished a few dollars out of his pocket.

"Pier 39, thanks." He uttered to the dead in the eyes driver, shoving the white ticket he was passed into the pocket of his jeans to throw away later. He made his way up the aisle, his only companions a lanky, long haired man sat at the front and a friendly looking Jamaican lady he'd bumped into a few times when he took this route. Not feeling up to conversation, he just gave her a smile as he passed, plopping into a seat nearer the back.

As he reached to plug his earphones in, he realised Lance probably would have seen he'd read the text by now, deciding to shoot back a short _'sure'_ as he shoved his headphones into the jack. He chuckled at Lance's not so enthusiastic response of _'cool'_ , before turning his attention out of the window, sighing as the world passed him by.

Another day gone, another lay gone, and despite having told the driver his destination, he was still nowhere close to where he wanted to be.


	3. Call Me Anytime

It was often said Coran owned the best ice cream parlor in San Francisco. Allura's uncle had been left the building by his best friend, and in a flash he'd transformed it into a modern and cozy hang out for everyone who lived nearby. It had a flare to it nobody could pinpoint- maybe it was the shelves of literature that lined the walls, or the basket of blankets available to anybody inside on a cold day. It could have been the array of brightly coloured flowers and cacti that adorned the boxy shelves on the walls. Either way, Keith loved it.

"Keith, my boy! It's been too long." Coran said brightly the moment Keith stepped over the threshold, scoop in one hand, waving over with the other. Keith gave him a small smile in return. He stepped behind the counter, sitting up on the island adjacent to Coran so he was staring at the side profile of his face.

"Hey, Coran. How's Petra?" He inquired, speaking of the ginger's sleek grey cat that resided in the quaint apartment upstairs. He had a soft spot for the affectionate furball that always situated herself on his lap when he visited, licking up his fingers to catch any escaped stickiness from his ice cream.

"She's well! Shiro tells me you've been given a new mission?" Coran added, at the same time scooping a perfect sphere of ice cream and pressing it onto a cone, serving it to a girl across the counter with a smile.

Keith rolled his eyes. Despite the oath of silence they were all forced to take when they'd joined The Lions, an oath _Shiro_ wrote, it was Shiro who found it most difficult to maintain. He recalled the time Shiro had blabbed to Coran about a mission where Allura had gone undercover as a prostitute, prompting a stern talking to from her overprotective guardian.

As well as the ice-cream shop, Coran had been left with guardianship of Allura after her father was murdered, leaving her with no other family. After the police were unable to find the culprit, Allura had taken it into her own hands, befriending Shiro to get more information about her father's case. She managed to find her father's murderer _and_ take him down, without any assistance from the cops. With Shiro's help she'd started The Lions, creating a safe space for anyone who needed it, recruiting new fighters to help stop the crimes police couldn't.

Shiro had found Keith when he was only eighteen, undernourished, in debt and desperate. He'd saved Keith from a shitty situation, taking on every bruise and bad memory and spinning them into battle scars, making Keith proud of everything he'd suffered through. Allura gave him a job and a Lions jacket, as well as flexible hours and the warmest hugs, melting Keith's walls in an instant.

Keith owed them a large debt. If not for the fiery brunette and his gentle guardian, he'd probably be dead.

"Yeah." He replied, reaching into one of the old tubs of ice cream to scrape up some of the dripping excess, popping the pink substance into his mouth, "We haven't got much to go on though."

"Well if it's any help, I know Faith very well. Her and her friends are here quite often." Coran supplied, having served all his customers, pulling off his apron and turning to Keith.

Keith perked up, "Really?"

Coran nodded, "Yes, it seems my shop attracts quite a few troublemakers." He glanced at Keith pointedly, who's grin faltered for a sheepish second. It seemed Coran still hadn't forgotten the damage Keith had done to his shop when Shiro had first rescued him, being the jumpy, paranoid victim he was.

"Does Faith come here herself?" He turned Coran's focus back to the matter at hand.

"Very rarely," Coran answered, "It's usually just members of her group. They're always somewhere around here, making a ruckus." He sighed sympathetically, "I hope you and Lance are able to solve all this. My friend Christopher's daughter went missing the other night."

Keith sucked his lip into his mouth, furrowing his brow, "In this neighborhood?"

Coran nodded glumly, "Yes, only fifteen years old. I didn't mention anything about the case, of course, but it must be connected. God, I'd hate for something to happen to her."

"Is her name Danielle Abbot, by any chance?" Keith leaned forwards, hands gripping the counter in concentration.

"Yes, it is." Coran blinked in surprise, "Why, did you find her?" He asked hopefully.

Keith shook his head, silent for a moment as he sucked on his teeth.

"Not yet," He finally answered, "But that helps, thanks."

"I don't mean to put any extra pressure on you, but please, find these people soon. We're all worried." Coran spoke in a hushed tone, glancing towards the small society, all gathered together in his little shop, laughing and smiling over vibrantly coloured mountains of ice.

Keith placed a hand on his shoulder, "We'll do our best, Coran."

Coran smiled at him, "Take care of yourself too, Keith." He patted Keith's hand, "I do worry about you boys."

They bid goodbye, Coran returning to his station behind the counter as Keith walked out into the main shop, hopping off the small step that connected the servery and seating area. He glanced around, searching for a flash of white amongst the green of the succulents and potted trees. Finally he spotted Shiro, sat nearer the back of the shop, in a small alcove surrounded by books and hanging plants, next to a large floor to ceiling window.

As he got closer and fewer heads blocked his way, he noticed Shiro had company, two caramel skinned teens sat talking and laughing in the chairs opposite him. Keith froze when he saw Lance, face glowing in the midday sun, a smile on his face so wide that if he wore lipstick it would smudge his ears with red.

"Hey." He greeted from a few feet away from the table with an awkward wave, shuffling over and seating himself next to Shiro, trying his hardest to ignore how much his lower back stung as he leaned against the cushion.

Shiro's gaze snapped to him as he entered their conversation, giving him a smile, "Keith, hey! I hope you don't mind, I saw Lance and Cat walking round and I invited them to eat with us-"

"It's fine." Keith assured him, giving Lance a quick glance, feeling slightly unsettled when he realized Lance was staring right back, focused on his mouth. He could see him gazing over from the corner of his eye, face passive and almost- intrigued? Like Keith's face was a candy crush level he was trying to solve.

He risked another hurried look over to Lance, the Cuban's eyes flitting away the moment he realized Keith was aware of his staring, turning his attention to a nest of birds out of the window. Keith ducked behind a menu when he felt his cheeks heating up, not used to the attention.

"I already ordered for you, the usual." Shiro told him when he saw Keith staring in concentration at the menu, mistaking his flustered demeanor for excitement, which was understandable- Keith fucking loved ice cream.

"Thanks." He muttered, reluctantly folding the menu back up and slotting it into the wooden holder in the center of the table. At the same moment he heard footsteps approaching in the form of Coran, holding a plate, two glasses and a small tub like a pro on his arms.

"Raspberry ripple for Cat." He supplied, placing the tub in front of the Cuban girl, who grinned, licking her lips.

"At least now we know who actually eats the raspberry ripple." Lance chuckled, yelping when his sister pinched his arm between her long, pointy acrylics.

"Raspberry ripple is no joke, rabo." She scolded.

"Sundaes for Lance and Shiro." Coran interrupted the quarrel, "And a large waffle for Keith."

Keith smiled at him as he placed the large plate onto the table in front of him, immediately scooping some of the vanilla cream into his mouth.

Lance stared across at him, holding in a chuckle as Keith began to scoff the waffle down, a glob of whipped cream dusting his cheeks that he itched to wipe off with his thumb. He raised his eyebrows as Keith practically unhinged his jaw to wolf down a bite of chocolate covered fluff, hiding his smile behind his palm and taking a bite of his own melting bubblegum sundae.

As Keith swallowed and opened his mouth from another bite, Lance's eyes snagged on the glimmering silver ball he'd caught sight of earlier when Keith had sat down. The ball momentarily mixed with the ice cream and waffle, Keith's tongue painted white, before it all disappeared down his throat. A second time he found himself fixated on it, mouth lolled open while ice cream slid off his spoon as his hand went slack. He didn't notice the exchange of silent laughter between his sister and Shiro across the table, the two of them very aware of Lance's distraction.

"Hermano your ice cream is melting." His sister grinned smugly, snapping Lance out of his reverie. The Cuban literally shook all thoughts from his head, focusing back on the slim glass and long spoon, shoveling a scoop into his mouth as he fought a war within himself.

Okay so, sure, Keith was conventionally attractive- fuck it Keith was _hot._ Really hot. Lance had always been aware, ever since the first moment Shiro brought in the small eighteen year old with long, greasy hair and oversized clothing. Even then Keith had this beauty about him, with slim features and long lashes underneath all the dirt caked on his face, and as soon as he started getting enough to eat his body had filled out into a gorgeous hybrid of supple skin and toned abs. Lance had never had a problem with Keith's appearance- his personality however...

Lance had seen countless friends get hurt, or worse killed because of the nature of their work, and Keith never being around and still getting countless praise from Shiro, while the rest of them worked so hard, risking their lives... it pissed him off. Shiro had always had a soft spot for the dark haired boy, and since Lance had also been taken in by Shiro, he'd always considered himself in competition with Keith. Maybe that's why he fought so hard to prove himself, to make Shiro look at _him_ the way he looked at Keith- like family.

The conversation continued around him while he drifted off, Keith's soft, lilting voice joining in every now and then, snapping Lance back to attention for a brief second before he found another part of Keith's appearance to over analyse. After a few minutes when they'd all licked their plates clean, Shiro's eyes sparked, as if coming to a realization, or some great idea.

"Hey Cat, remember that thing we were meant to do?" He stared at Lance's sister intensely, and she seemed to freeze in her seat, the two of them exchanging silent, crackling conversation across the table with only eye contact.

"What?" Keith puzzled, looking just as confused as Lance. Shiro kept on staring at Cat, then between Keith and Lance, and finally something seemed to click.

“Oh!” Her face broke out into suspicious and hesitant realization, “Hah, right, that thing. We can go right now, if you want?”

Lance frowned between them, “Why are you guys being so weird? What thing?”

Cat pinched his arm, “A very important thing that doesn’t involve you.”

Shiro nodded, “You got the bus here, right Keith?”

Keith nodded slowly, glancing over at Lance, “Yeah, though I have someone to meet soon..."

“I’m sure Lance can give you a lift back home?” Shiro patted Lance’s shoulder, squeezing the flesh there, letting Lance know it was definitely not a question.

Lance swallowed, mind spinning- _what the hell is going on-_ but he nodded nonetheless, the up and down movement doing nothing to help the whirlwind in his brain.

“Yeah, sure, the cars just outside.” He said nonchalantly, not making eye contact with Keith.

“I-If that’s okay…” Keith mumbled.

Lance smiled sheepishly, rising with the other three, the four of them slipping on their coats, some of Cat's hair whipping him in the face as she pulled it out of the neck of her leather jacket and shook it out. She and Keith began walking ahead, exchanging light conversation.

Just as Lance made to walk after then, he felt a strong hand grab hold of his arm, turning to find Shiro staring at him gravely. He cocked his brow, Shiro sighing, glancing over Lance's shoulder to check Keith and Cat were out of earshot.

"I need you to do me a favor." He mumbled under his breath, receiving another confused glance from Lance.

"What's up?"

Shiro huffed, running his hand through his hair, looking older than he was, "First I need you to know I wouldn't ask you this if I didn't deem it absolutely necessary." He disclaimed, only further spurring Lance's confusion.

"Okay what the hell is going on?" He said frustratingly, folding his arms as intimidatingly as he could next to someone of Shiro's stature.

"I need you to check out the guy Keith's meeting." Shiro gave him a pleading look, immediately sensing Lance's reluctance, "I promise you won't have to _talk_ to whoever it is, just hang around for a few minutes after you drop Keith off, make sure he's okay."

Lance glanced over his shoulder at the pair over by the door, who were glancing over at them questionably, chuckling over something Cat just said, "Why? Is he meeting someone dangerous?"

Shiro shrugged drowsily, looking a lot older suddenly, "I honestly have no idea. Keith hangs around with some shady people, and he's turned up with bruises before. He says they're just from work but..."

Shiro bit his lip, scratching his arms anxiously.

"I worry about him, you know?"

Lance sucked on his teeth contemplatively, awkwardly rubbing his bicep, "I don't know, man. If Keith saw me it would look a bit..."

Shiro raised his arms in a surrendering gesture, "If he catches you I'll take full responsibility. All I'm asking is you stick around for a bit, make sure he's not going to get hurt. I just wanna know he's okay." Shiro pleaded, and how could Lance say no to that?

"Okay, I'll keep an eye on him." Lance agreed reluctantly. Shiro clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him in for a quick hug.

"Thanks, Lance."

Lance nodded as they broke apart, keeping his hand on Shiro's shoulder, "You should probably talk to Keith about this, you know? If it worries you that much." He advised, but Shiro just shook his head.

"I've tried, but you know how stubborn he is. Keith's adamant about keeping his social life private, and he's been at this for years. It's a habit he can't seem to break."

Lance furrowed his brow, "He's been at what, exactly?"

Shiro glanced away awkwardly, looking uncomfortable where he stood, "That's... Keith's business. He'll open up to you, I'm sure. Just lay it easy with the insults, from now on." He joked to break the ice, Lance nodding, albeit unsatisfied with Shiro's evasive answer.

"And Lance?" Shiro added, bringing Lance's attention back to him.

"I'm sure you two will make a good team." He smiled, patting Lance's shoulder firmly one last time before heading towards the door.

They joined Keith and Cat right after, Shiro and Cat diverging when they stepped outside, waving as they walked towards the shopping center.

"You think this will work?" Shiro cocked his brow, still waving.

Cat sighed, "I hope so. If they don't fuck soon I think they'll spontaneously combust."

Shiro rolled his eyes, "I meant do you think they'll become a better team?"

Cat froze, "Oh, I guess... yeah?"

Shiro chuckled as they turned away, preparing to spend twenty minutes walking around town before hopping on the next bus home.

"By the way, what did you say to Lance just then?" Cat inquired, gazing up curiously.

Shiro shrugged, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead, "Just something to push them along a bit." He gave a short, breathy laugh, shaking his head down at the concrete, "God knows they need it."

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

They drove in awkward silence mostly, Lance tapping out a beat on the wheel in time to the eighties mix softly seeping from the speakers. He glanced over at Keith from the corner of his eye, watching him gaze out of the window, hair tucked behind his ear, displaying the soft line of his jaw. He mouthed along to the words, unaware of Lance's eyes on him.

"So..." Lance cleared his throat, "About that stakeout..."

Keith turned to him, eyes bright and inquisitive, and Lance had to take a breath before speaking again, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to regain focus.

"I was thinking Friday? I'm busy the rest of this week so unless you wanna go next week-?"

"Friday's good." Keith interrupted with a short, small smile, "Meet at Altea?"

Lance had to admit- he really liked Keith's voice when he wasn't yelling at him. He liked voices that were warm, that felt cozy, like a blanket that wraps around or covers you, and touches your heart. He found voices became softer and easier to hear the more he heard them, or the more he liked the people they belonged to, like how Cat's and Shiro's made him feel safe every time the sound reached his ears. And Keith's voice- man, if he liked it this much while basically _hating_ Keith he wondered how favorable it would be if he liked him a little more.

It soured through the air like an eagle on updraft, coating the air with honey and a light raspiness it held earlier in the morning. Keith had a tendency to mumble his words, disguising the pretty, lilting tone of his voice, but whenever he let himself be heard, in rare moments of comfort or laughter, it was one of the most wonderful sounds Lance had been given the pleasure of hearing.

"Sounds good." He coughed, focusing back on the road ahead.

Keith nodded, turning his attention to outside yet again. He sat up, waving his finger at the next right turn, "My apartment's just down there."

Lance nodded, spinning the wheel to turn into the dimly lit street, swallowing as he spotted several eyes watching them drive down the pothole littered road. It was a skeleton of tarmac, stripped of it's flesh by its inhabitants. Even the dim street lamps were thin and graffitied, hunched over the street leaving spots of yellow on the concrete. It was a graveyard, a home for anybody living close to dead. Keith gestured to a dilapidated building at the end of the street, and Lance pulled up at the road opposite.

"Thanks for the ride." Keith said, jumping out of the car, "See you Friday." He waved.

Lance waved back at him as Keith hurried over to the building, catching sight of a much taller man hovering outside the entrance, a slight scruff shadowing his chin. Keith greeted him, and they trod inside, Lance losing sight of them as they disappeared up the stairs. Lance was ready to drive away, before quickly remembering Shiro's request, hands slipping off the wheel as he tipped his head back against the seat with a sigh.

He sat opposite Keith's building for a while, eyes glued to the entrance, waiting for Keith to come running out crying or something, but nothing happened. God what sort of people must Keith have brought home to make Shiro worry this much?

He sighed before yanking the stick to reverse, pulling away from the shattered curb, giving Keith's building one last glance, catching a small shifting of some curtains a few stories up, but he was already rounding the corner, the building disappearing from sight.

Keith watched him go from his apartment, shaking his head as he stared out the window. He'd known Shiro would pull some shit like this, but making Lance do his dirty work was an all time low. He let the curtains fall back into place, swallowing as he heard footsteps approaching behind him.

"Who was that, babe?" His companion asked, winding his arms around Keith's chest. He shrugged, turning in his arms and grabbing hold of his shoulders pushing him back towards the bed.

"No one important." He shrugged, straddling the man beneath him and leaning down to kiss his lips. Grabby hands reached under his shirt, pushing it up over his head, large hands holding his waist as he grinded down onto his lap. _This_ was what he was truly good at.

"Now, where were we?"


	4. Just Beat It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @ 7 people in the comments: I’m sorry the title mislead you, but there’s no masturbation in this chapter. Ty for coming to my ted talk.

The ride was a ritual. Every couple weeks he would fill the tank to the brim, throw his leg over the pillion and set off wherever the wheels took him, separate from the rest of the world for a few hours. One time he'd driven as far as Oregon, the thrum of the engine so familiar and comfortable beneath him he'd been completely unaware until he crossed the border.

Today he headed for the mountain roads, disregarding any speed limits and opening the throttle wide, littering the crackly roads with dust, his knee just skimming the ground when he turned. He had a hard job, this was his therapy.

When he rode all his senses were magnified. All his emotions were doubled. He was alive. In the barren wastelands around the San Francisco peaks his vision was in IMAX, not another vehicle in sight, no windows or pillars to block his view. Everything came at him with no limitations.

Every whiff of burnt grass and pine he could smell and taste, the wind carrying the molecules past the barrier of his helmet into his face, as well as white noise. The breeze, the engine- everything combined into one generic sound, a symphony he loved to hear.

And best of all is the moment where it all comes together. He stopped thinking of the next turn. He stopped focusing on the details. He and the jet-black machine became one, gliding through in total harmony. It's why he rode. It varied from bike to bike- but on Red it's all adrenaline, not like a comfortable, lazy, open-air experience. Freedom on wheels. Those two wheels moved his soul.

He sailed through the trees like a soccer player dribbling a ball in and out of fluorescent cones, the sun sinking lower and lower over the horizon. He flipped his visor up to watch it dip into the terrain, the sky exploding into a celebration of purple and pink, erasing the previous fiery reds from existence. It was like watching a t-shirt being tie-dyed, the colours swirling around each other as they created a picturesque vision of blue. The twilight zone.

He sighed at the heavenly sight, his cue to start the engine again, driving in the opposite direction to the summits behind him, protruding from the ground like nature's own sculpted horns. He was due to meet Lance at Altea soon, and he refused to be stuck in a car with Lance for hours on end all sweaty from his ride.

Another benefit of riding a motorcycle was that he didn't have to observe his surroundings- the ones of his street in particular. Dealers and dangers lurked around every crumbling corner, light barely able to make its way through the permanently wintry branches of the landscape, shadowy arms enveloping the ruins of the buildings. The columns were the only thing left untouched- and by untouched he meant not completely broken, though they still braved through the onslaught of graffiti and gang tags. Everything else was worn and crumbled, their decay the only marker of time in a place of uncounted days.

His building fared no better, though it was in a more illuminated area of the street. Compared to the fancy architecture that adorned California it looked like it had been beamed in from a horror movie, beaten down by endless seasons of weathering, unloved by the state governors, who hadn't authorized repairs in all the four years Keith had resided there. 

To the local kids it was more alluring than a corner candy store, and more nights than none they would break in with flashlights. Thankfully Keith had built up somewhat of a reputation- the first time they'd come knocking at his door was also the last. He was also grateful for the little old woman he was lucky enough to call his landlady. He remembered when Shiro had gotten him into Sherlock for a couple months, and he'd found extreme resemblance between Mrs Twining and Mrs Hudson. She'd given Keith possibly the nicest apartment on the street at an unbelievably low price, as a favour to Shiro, who'd helped clear her son of charges for a crime he didn't commit. Every now and then she'd pop by with coffee and homemade cookies, helping rouse Keith from bed on his particularly bad days.

She'd also been respectful enough to deny Shiro when he'd asked her to spy on Keith- unlike many others Shiro had roped into his overprotective schemes.

Lance hadn't been by since the last time, so Keith assumed it was only that one time. He wasn't surprised how easy Lance had given into Shiro, he'd always been incredibly loyal to him, and he had no duty to Keith in any way that would make him decline.

To be honest, who could blame Shiro for his coddling and vigilance- it wasn't like Keith hadn't given him a reason for it. He enjoyed people finding him attractive, enjoyed the short bout of attention before they had to catch a cab back home. It was a suitable numbing method to the rest of the havoc happening in his head. Shiro had turned up at his door multiple nights to try and talk some sense into him, but every night he still hopped on his bike, and somehow ended up at the nearest bar, ready to bring another meaningless lay back to his bed.

Sometimes they were violent. Usually they were degrading. He didn't care, it was child's play compared to what he may have been subjected to if Shiro hadn't saved him. And sometimes if he closed his eyes he could pretend they actually meant something, that he wasn't giving away another part of him every night.

It sounded more painful than it was. He was fine, this lifestyle suited him well.

His legs had long gone numb when he hopped of his bike, but he'd grown accustomed to the familiar feeling, welcomed it in fact. It gave him time to laugh at himself as he pulled himself up the stairs like a newborn deer, knees rickety and only the strength in his hand on the iron railing to pull himself up. If Lance was there he'd undoubtedly never let Keith live it down.

He fished around in his pocket for his keys, too focused on the task to notice there was somebody at his door, leaning against the wall adjacent and smirking at him as he edged closer. Eventually he retrieved the cool metal keyring, freezing when he finally looked up, catching sight of the man at his door.

He wracked his brain for a name- _Allan?_ \- recognizing the tall blonde as a conquest from a few nights prior, the night before he'd gone to Coran's to meet Shiro, when he and Lance had arranged the stake out he had only a few minutes left to leave for.

The man- _seriously, what the hell was his name? You need a serious life adjustment, Keith_ \- approached him, Keith still frozen in place as he leered at him, looking for something Keith had no time to give him. Besides, he never fucked twice. It created too many problems- like feelings.

"Hey, sexy. Remember me?"

Keith opened and closed his mouth a few times, fumbling for the right words to say, "Y-Yeah..." He trailed off, still having trouble coming up with a name.

"Aaron." The man frowned, folding his arms. _'Ah,'_ Keith thought, finding some clarity now he had a name. He remembered Aaron well- he'd been an average fuck, but what had really put Keith off was the amount of times he'd had to bat his hands away from his throat and face.

"I'm hurt, doll, I thought we had something special." Aaron placed a hand on his chest in mock-pain. Keith offered a short, fake laugh, nudging past the man to his front door. He poised his key at the lock, ready to flee into the safe confines of his apartment until a hand was placed next to his head threateningly, prompting him to turn around, finding Aaron looming over him.

"Come on, sweet cheeks, you were so eager the other night." Keith resisted the urge to kick his knee up when a finger was placed on his cheek, trailing down to cup his chin, wrenching his chin up to make him look him in the face.

"I have plans-" He began to explain, feeling his chest begin to tighten as the beckoning grin on Aaron’s face morphed into a scowl.

"Don't lie to me." He growled, "You're probably off to fuck some other guy, slut."

Keith felt his blood boil, clenching his fists- _don't punch him don't punch him._

He could withstand most of the things the strangers he brought into his home threw at him, but there was something about that word that set his blood on fire, and not in the way he liked.

"You know I didn't think it'd come to this, but I should probably tell you I ran into Ryan the other day. Your old boss?" Aaron grinned like the Cheshire cat as Keith turned white, jaw clenching in Aaron's grip.

“H-How did you find out about-?"

He cut Keith off, “I was at your old workplace the other day, just by coincidence, and I saw a photo of you there, stuck up on the wall. I asked about it and Ryan was _pretty_ eager to know where you are. I told him I’d call if I saw you again." Aaron smirked wolfishly, "Of course, that is unless you can convince me not to..."

Keith swallowed thickly, fingers shaking around the keys clutched in his hand. He refused to look up at the man ahead of him, staring right at his cotton clad chest as he took a step towards Keith, pressing their bodies tightly together, moving his collar out of the way to caress the bare skin of his shoulder.

“So, what’s it going to be, baby doll?” Aaron whispered, fingers pressing against his skin firmer, “Wanna have some fun? Or should I call your ex-boss and let him deal with you?”

Keith's heart boiled with resentment- for Ryan, for Aaron, for _himself,_ for letting it get this far. Aaron's hands were winding round his neck, now, close to asphyxiating him with how tightly he clung on, pressing just hard enough for it to be a threat, but not a serious one.

 _"Okay."_ He croaked, gasping as quietly as he could when Aaron finally let go of his throat, reaching up to rub on the skin that would surely be bruised. God, Shiro was going to kill him. Then he was going to kill _Keith._

"Good boy."

It didn't feel like praise.

He slotted the key into the door with his hand as steady as he could make it, hearing it snap open. Aaron hurried him inside, throwing him against the closet wall the moment the door slammed shut again. Ever so slowly Keith felt tears begin the rise in the back of his throat, clotting it, suffocating him almost as if Aaron's fingers had returned to his neck.

It didn't occur to him he'd blown Lance off until an hour later, when he heaved his aching body out of bed to answer the furious banging against the door, the decrepit slab of wood swinging open to reveal none other than the fuming Cuban in person. His heart stopped when their eyes met, wavering violet meeting a hybrid of deep ocean blue and flaming white.

Fuck.

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Lance was one to turn up early for things. That way he never let anyone down, never missed a thing. He pulled up at Altea ten minutes before he was due to meet Keith, finding only the regular patrons and a few of his friends, tending to the bar and wiping down the tables at the late hour they'd agreed to meet.

"Hey, the usual?" Pidge asked as Lance plopped down in his seat, waving his hand dismissively.

"Nah, I've got a job. You seen Keith?"

Pidge shook her head, "Not yet. He hasn't been by in a few days. Are you meeting him?"

Lance nodded mournfully, forearms and elbows resting on the sleek bar top, "Yeah. We've got that job, remember?"

"Ah." Pidge nodded, remembering, "That's going well, I'm sure."

Lance scowled at her as she smirked, offering her an uncreative hand gesture which she received with her palm, pressing it mockingly to her heart.

"It'll be over soon. It's just a small bust, saving a few people. The usual."

Pidge's brow furrowed, "I thought it was a human trafficking case? That sounds like more than a simple bust."

Lance shrugged, "It's just a gang operating it downtown. If it were international we'd have a problem, but only local people have gone missing. We take down their leader, bust their den and bam. We saved the city." He winked, prompting a roll of the eyes from Pidge.

"Yeah well, be careful. Idiot."

"How my sister fell for a perra like you I'll never know."

Pidge scoffed, "I'm fucking brilliant that's why. Too bad my future brother in law is such an idiot."

They chuckled in harmony, eyes momentarily brought to the back door as it swung open, Pidge's brother stepping over the threshold with a grin on his face, a small girl with pale blonde hair perched on his tall shoulders. Her legs twined around his chest and her fingers curled in his long hair, currently fixed into a ponytail that fell just short of his back.

"Lance!" She grinned toothily, dashing over to him the moment Matt placed her on the floor. Lance beamed as he jumped off his seat, almost toppled over by the weight of the surprisingly heavy little girl. Her fluffy hair had thankfully been tamed into braids, undoubtedly by Shiro's tactful fingers, saving Lance from his usual mouthful of hair.

"Hola hermosa!" He stood up with the petite human in his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck. Matt watched on, eyes tired from a long day of caring for the fireball in Lance's arms, adorned with blue overalls and muddy sneakers, and more feminine pink ribbons in her bright, platinum locks.

"She wanted to come with me to see her daddy." He panted, rubbing his shoulders with a wince, "When I told her you were here to she was practically ready to drive herself."

Lance grinned at Matt, "Remember when I told you kids were a handful?"

Matt chuckled breathily, "I should have listened to you. One bit of advice you've given me that was actually good." Nonetheless he gazed at Grace with adoration sparkling in his eyes.

Lance reeled back in mock grief, "Excuse you, I give great advice. Who was it that told you to seduce Shiro? Nine months later we got this little fireball." He patted Grace's hair affectionately.

Matt gave him a deadpan look, "She's adopted, Lance."

"But she _wouldn't_ be if I hadn't gotten you and Shiro together." Lance countered, finally placing the small blonde on the floor, "You're welcome." He kissed her head, and she nodded along with him, despite being completely oblivious to the conversation at hand.

Matt rolled his eyes with a slight chuckle, looking around the bar, "Is Keith here yet?"

Suddenly aware he was meant to have company, Lance checked his phone with a frown. Seven minutes late.

"No..." He trailed off.

Matt's brow steepened into a puzzled trench, "That's not like him. Have you tried calling him?"

Lance shook his head, already a step ahead, bringing his ringing phone to his ear. His frown got more pronounced with every bleep, and when he was finally put through to Keith's answer machine he released an irritated huff.

"He's not picking up."

Matt bit his lip, keeping an eye on Grace as she ran over to Hunk and Shay who were dusting off the tables and glancing over at Matt and Lance curiously. Lance waits patiently as Matt taps out a text to Shiro, the dark haired man emerging from behind his office door a moment later.

"Hey, what's up?" He greeted Matt with a short kiss, placing on hand on his hip.

"I'm here to hand over the new tech for Lance and Keith, but Keith isn't here yet." Matt explained, and Shiro immediately adapted a concerned expression. He was however, momentarily distracted by the small blonde bounding over the him, leaping into his arms.

"Daddy!" Graced shouted as she embraced Shiro, bringing a fond smile to Shiro's face, wiping his grimace from his face for a second as he fussed over her, fixing one of her braids that had flicked out of place.

"Hey muffin, I have to talk with Lance and Papa for a second, but auntie Allura is in my office, and she's got some new toys to play with." Shiro kissed her forehead gently.

Grace's eyes sparkled, and she immediately ducked under her father's legs and into the door behind him, making the trio of men chuckle as she disappeared from sight.

"You know, I don't think highly dangerous weapons count as toys." Matt pointed out.

Shiro shrugged, "Eh, they aren't operational. Allura will keep an eye on her, she'll be fine."

Matt rolled his eyes at his husband's nonchalant behavior, smiling at him fondly. Lance suddenly felt like he was imposing as they glanced at each other, exchanging silent conversation in a language only they knew. He shuffled in place awkwardly, coughing as loud as he could, bringing them back to the task at hand.

"Ah right," Shiro coughed, "Okay, I'll try Keith's landlady and see if he's home. Matt, just go ahead and show Lance through the stuff. Keith will know what most of it is anyway."

Shoving down the pang of jealousy he got from knowing Keith had gotten an insider view into Matt's work, Lance nodded at Shiro's instructions, letting Matt lead him down some stairs nearer the back of the shop.

He'd only been allowed into Lance and Pidge's work station a small number of times. The brother and sister were extremely particular about who was allowed to see them work, the list limited to only Shiro and Cat. And Keith, it seemed, Lance remembered bitterly.

Their stations were simple wooden work benches, adorned with gizmos and gadgets of all kinds. They'd each personalized their respective desks in their own ways, Matt's holding a framed picture of him, Shiro and Grace, and all kinds of blue prints and sketching tools, neatly organised into separate parts of the desk and pencil holders.

Pidge's was much less organized. The wall above was scattered with different photos of her and others at the bar. Lance spotted his face a few times, as well as Hunk, Shay, Matt, Shiro and Allura. Even Keith appeared a few times. Cat's face appeared the most, her sparkling white teeth creating glare in the camera lens. The desk itself was barely visible, covered in mechanical parts and tools.

Matt beckoned Lance over to the wall length island at the back, covered with a few high-tech items. He slapped Lance's hand away when he reached out to fiddle with a tiny object resembling a baseless joystick, with a small red button on top.

"Don't touch that." Matt scolded, "That releases a simulation of a bomb clap. It reaches around 140 decibels, enough to leave you temporarily deaf."

"Woah." Lance gaped, not deterred in the least. Matt rolled his eyes, pulling on a pair of gloves and placing himself on a stool. Lance stood next to him, waiting excitedly as Matt pulled forwards a case, snapping it open in two fluid motions. There was no dramatic release of steam or code to input, but what was inside was still pretty fucking cool.

"This is an enhanced PIR detector," Matt retrieved a sleek box shaped object Lance recognized from their previous mission, "It's like an X-Ray for walls. It can detect heat signatures through infrared. Just press here," Matt turned the detector on, gesturing to a small button on the top, "To turn it on, and slide the screen to go through multiple walls. The button on the side will activate a sound enhancer, so you can hear what's going on, too."

Lance nodded, pocketing the object.

"And this?" Lance inquired, picking up a black, eight-shaped box, snapping it open to find two clear lenses blinking back at him beneath the pale light.

"They're night vision contacts. They're made with graphene, so they can irritate, but as long as you don't wear them for too long they should work fine."

Finally, Matt walked Lance over to a rickety cupboard in the corner, yanking out a thin, long sleeved, black t-shirt.

"This is shock absorbing and bullet proof. There's a hydraulic system recoil buffer integrated into the fabric that can tame the recoil of almost any gun or bullet."

"That made no sense, but it sounds cool." Lance said honestly, and Matt rolled his eyes.

"There's one for Keith too. They can be concealed beneath a shirt but be careful. They're recoil absorbent not bulletproof, and tear as well as any other t-shirt."

Lance nodded, taking hold of Keith's vest too.

"Thanks for this, Matt." He said gratefully, concealing all the gear in his bag.

"No problem, it's more fun for us than it is for you." Matt shrugged, ticking Lance and Keith's name off his list.

"Nerd." Lance snorted, giving Matt a single wave as he retreated up the stairs back to the main bar. Guns and Roses seeped from the jukebox as Hunk approached him, towel slung over his uniformed shoulder.

"Hey, Lance, Shiro wants to talk to you." Hunk jabbed his thumb over to his shoulder, where Shiro leaned awkwardly against the bar, biting on his thumbnail.

Glancing around, Lance noticed most of the bar's inhabitants looking at him, rubbing on their necks, quickly glancing away when they saw they'd caught his attention. His eyes narrowed in on his best friend in front of him, folding his arms suspiciously.

"Guns and Roses is playing." He said monotonously, watching Hunk squirm in place.

"Uh, yeah..."

"Shiro hates Guns and Roses. He never lets me play it in the bar." Lance stated.

"Maybe he changed his mind-"

"Shiro only ever lets me play Guns and Roses when he's done something wrong." Lance frowned, "What's happened?"

Hunk gulped, rubbing his upper arm uncomfortably, "Um... _Keithisn'tcoming."_

It was a jumbled mess, but Lance still made it out, arms unfolding so he could clench his fists angrily, "He's _what?"_

Hunk raised his hands in a surrendering motion, stepping aside, "Hey, calm down, I'm just the messenger. Shiro's the one who-" Hunk had no time to finish before Lance was storming past him in a fury over to Shiro.

"Shiro!" Lance yelled angrily, "What the hell! You can't just let him off for this!"

Shiro glanced up at Lance guiltily. He'd been accused for being too soft on Keith on multiple occasions, by multiple people. Of course they had no reason why, but it still pained him to have to give special treatment, especially when the other person was Lance, whom he undoubtedly cared for as much as Keith.

"Lance, you have to understand-"

"Like hell I do!" Lance shouted, making Shiro flinch, and he momentarily felt bad. Shiro wasn't the one who'd bailed on him.

He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and massaging the crease of his brow with both hands, calming himself before stating through gritted teeth, "What's his apartment number?"

Shiro sighed, head falling between shoulders, "Lance, I can't-"

"I'm not gonna kill him or anything," Lance rolled his eyes huffily, "I just want to see what's going on."

Shiro rubbed his temple with a frown, debating with himself. He knew full well why Keith wasn't there at that moment- Mrs Twining had told him of Keith's company over the phone. He also knew Keith wouldn't have bailed on Lance for some meaningless guy, giving only two possibilities. One, Keith had a boyfriend - very unlikely - or two, he’d been threatened.

He knew the risk of sending Lance over there. Keith would probably be furious with him, and if he were in danger he would also be putting Lance at risk. But Lance was the fierce guardian of The Lions, and that included Keith, no matter how much Lance claimed to hate him. If one of his family were in danger, he’d bend head over heels to protect them.

"3b." He finally mumbled. God, Keith was going to kill him.

Lance nodded, stepping around him towards the door. Shiro quickly reached out to grab hold of his forearm, squeezing it tenderly.

"Lance, I get you're mad. You have every right to be." He gave him a soft look, "But please, don't scare him. He wouldn't blow you off if he didn't have a good reason." He pleaded.

Lance swallowed, nodding as Shiro's grip slipped from his arm. He pondered for a moment, wavering where he stood.

"You know, don't you? Why he's not here?" Lance observed. Shiro nodded slowly, sucking on his teeth. Lance's mouth twitched into a debating position before he sighed, running a hand through his hand.

"Okay, I'll go easy on him." He agreed, and Shiro sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Lance. Now go." Shiro nodded towards the door, "He needs you."

Lance rolled his eyes as he pulled his jacket on, "Don't make it gay."

Shiro chuckled after him as Lance ran from the establishment, jumping into his convertible parked across the road, speeding away in a matter of seconds. He downed the rest of his whiskey, traipsing over to Shay, who was re-braiding Grace's hair.

"Hey, sweetie. Wanna grab papa and go back home?" He offered, receiving a toothy grin he adored in return. He wondered why he'd been so reluctant to adopt in the first place. As soon as he'd laid eyes on Grace, the small, angelic thing she was, he'd fallen in love.

"Okay daddy." She beamed, running towards the stairs at the back to go fetch Matt. Shiro smiled softly after her, laughing slightly as he watched her haul his husband up the stairs, Matt stumbling after her despite his tall frame. She was an immensely strong toddler. His friends said she got it from him, neglecting the fact they had absolutely no genetic relation at all.

"Lance went to yell at Keith, I presume?" Shay interrupted his reverie, dusting off the chair Grace had been perched on and slotting it back underneath it's assigned table. Shiro nodded with a short chuckle.

"Hopefully they can work it out." She smiled, "Those two would be so cute together."

Oh yes, the entire bar was invested in the Lance/Keith drama, had been ever since they first went toe-to-toe years before. The number of bets created an astonishing sum in total, Shiro and Allura included in the pool. Hunk was the only one who refused to get involved, claiming he valued his genitals too much to risk them meeting Keith's favourite knife.

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you?" He grinned as Shay started wiping down the next table.

"Come on, Takashi," She said his given name endearingly, "Those two have the hots for each other big time. They just need to get over..." She trailed off.

"Their personalities?" Shiro offered with a chuckle

"Yeah, that." She laughed, tossing her rag into the bucket at last, "Well I'm off. I'll grab my man and get home, if that's alright?"

"Of course, Shay." He stepped aside to let her through, the busty waitress hanging her pinny back onto it's assigned hook. Shay had been there as long as he could remember, wiping down their tables and maintaining the picturesque landscaping outside, along with Hunk. Shay was the female 'muscle' of the group, and a total goddess in Hunk's eyes, and many other's. She often went with Cat and Allura on missions, and was also useful as an assistant for Pidge whenever she was needed. 

Shay and Hunk left the bar hand in hand, giggling at something Hunk said as the door slammed shut behind them. Finally, it was just Shiro, Matt and Grace, left to close up the bar, Allura and Pidge having left a short while ago.

Matt tugged Grace's coat on gently, the two of them exchanging animated conversation at the door. Shiro gazed over at his family with a soft smile, treading over to them just in time to hear Matt finish a thrilling story about some princess and her dragon.

"Ready to go?" His husband beamed up at him and Shiro nodded fondly, lifting Grace into his arms, slinging the other one around Matt's shoulder.

"I'm tired." He pouted, prompting Matt to jab his chin with his finger.

"You're not leaving me to put her to bed by myself again." He scolded.

Shiro yawned exaggeratedly and Grace giggled, tickling his sensitive chin, a weak spot she'd discovered many months ago and never hesitated to use to her advantage.

"I want you to sing to me." She demanded nuzzling into his shoulder, and how could Shiro say no to that?

Later, after a soft lullaby, Grace fell into a deep sleep, leaving he and Matt alone. They collapsed into bed, sighing in unison.

"Do you think they've had sex yet?" Matt mumbled, just as Shiro was about to drift off.

Shiro chuckled, "I'd rather not think about it to be honest. But-" He yawned, "Probably not. Lance is a good Catholic boy."

Matt snorted, tucking himself under Shiro's arm, "Lance is Cuban that doesn't automatically make him Catholic." He said deadpan, "Do you think pairing them together for this was a good idea?"

Shiro shrugged, jolting Matt's head, "Dunno." He drawled, tucking his head under Matt’s chin as his eyes fluttered closed, "Me and Allura have had this conversation a million times. But I think those two secretly have a lot of admiration for the other. They'd be unstoppable, if only they stopped fucking around."

"Or once they _start_ fucking around." Matt added, making Shiro laugh beneath him. They slipped back into silence for a moment, before Shiro's eyes cracked open.

"Just in case they don't... how about _we_ fuck around instead?"

Matt laughed airily, heaving himself up to sling his leg over Shiro's lap, "Just to make sure the city achieves its fucking quota for the night?"

Shiro grinned, running his fingers through Matt’s long hair, "You're such a dork."

 _"We're_ dorks." Matt corrected, giving him a small peck on the lips, "But I love you." He said tiredly against Shiro's mouth.

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too." Shiro sighed, pulling Matt in closer.

"Now, time to sustain the fucking quota."

Shiro snorted.

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By the time Lance made it to Keith's apartment, it was well past the time they were _supposed_ to meet. But they had a job to do, and he was determined to finish it god damn it. Apartment number fresh in his mind, he sprung through the front door, leaping up two steps at a time to the third floor of the building.

Glancing one more time at the door number he'd hurriedly written on his hand, then back up at the corresponding gold-plated plaque on the door ahead of him, he took a deep breath, before rapping three times on the wood.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting- he'd half expected Keith to not be there, and half for him to open the door and slam it back in his face. What he definitely had not counted on was for the door to swing open and for Keith to be wearing a blue shirt that was far too oversized to belong to him, and a pair of sweatpants.

He froze in place as their eyes met, Keith's pretty violets growing wide in disbelief, and cheeks turning scarlet as he realized the extent of his appearance. His lips were parted in surprise, kissed cherry red, hair mussed like someone had been holding tightly onto it only a few moments before.

Lance took a moment to let his eyes adjust, finding it extremely difficult to focus on the fact he was here to yell at the beauty in front of him, whose half open shirt and red tinted face left little to the imagination as to what he'd been doing moments before.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." He finally croaked out, digging the heels of his hands in his eyes, wondering if Keith would miraculously reappear wearing proper clothes if he pressed hard enough.

"What are you doing here?" He registered Keith's voice, in a small, hushed tone. Lance flung his head up, anger levels rising once again.

"Why am I _here?_ You blew me off, that's why! And to _have sex?"_ Lance gestured to Keith's scantily clad body, prompting his cheeks to blush a deeper shade of ruby, "So I'll ask again, _are you fucking kidding me!"_ He could barely contain his voice into a whisper, registering Keith didn't want them to be heard by the other person in his apartment.

He watched Keith gulp, eyes fixed on the movement of his throat, which was concealed by his hand, which guarded it protectively. _'Probably covered in hickeys',_ Lance scoffed internally.

"I-I'm sorry." Keith mumbled, "I promise I didn't-"

"Hey, baby, who is it?" 

Lance watched with confusion as Keith's whole body went rigid, two arms appearing from the shadows to wrap around Keith's waist, belonging to a blonde even taller than Lance. Lance's gaze flitted across Keith's shoulders, down to the viper tight grip the man had around Keith's waist, pretty sure Keith was unable to move a muscle like that. They then focused back on Keith's face, and the neck he concealed with the collar of the shirt.

Lance was no Sherlock Holmes, but something was seriously wrong with this picture. Suddenly it all made sense to him - Shiro's strange request to wait outside Keith's apartment, Keith ditching their meeting. His mind cleared, his gait adapting a less hunched, more intimidating stance as he looked the man in the eyes.

He glanced at Keith, studying his uncomfortable demeanor. Keith was still frozen in place, feet shuffling beneath him. He was scared, Lance knew, and suddenly his anger wasn't for Keith. It was for the man strangling his waist with his arms, who'd somehow managed to make the infamous badass Keith Kogane _afraid._ It wasn't hard to imagine who Keith had borrowed the blue shirt from, considering the man wore only a thin, white tank top.

"I'm a co-worker." He said calmly, "Keith missed his shift at work, and he's needed there urgently. I'm sure you understand." He said, tilting his head sympathetically.

The man frowned slightly, but his hands retreated from around Keith's hips nonetheless as he slipped back into the apartment, retrieving his shoes from the porch.

"I'll call you later, babe." He called as he stepped out of the door, squaring up with Lance in an attempt to intimidate him (a failed one), before throwing his jacket over his shoulder, "I'll come back for my shirt another time." He winked, sending a shiver down Lance's spine.

Lance stayed at the threshold of Keith's apartment protectively until the man disappeared from sight, down the stairway Lance had come up moments ago.

Finally, he turned to Keith, who was pointedly avoiding meeting his eye.

"Get dressed." He ordered, "We're going out."

Keith nodded without objection, retreating back into the apartment. Lance kept his eyes on Keith's back until his bedroom door closed, and Lance settled against the closest inner wall of his apartment.

It wasn't decorated much, the beige couch and few CDs on the shelf he could see not giving too much away about its inhabitant. He waited outside patiently before Keith finally emerged, fully dressed, more so than usual. He wore his usual jeans and partially tied boots, but on top of his sweater he wore a knitted scarf, strategically placed so the beight red wool obscured all his collarbone and the bottom of his throat.

Lance didn't question his choice in clothing, already sure he'd deduced the correct conclusion. They stepped outside in silence, Keith locking the door behind him as they head towards Lance's car, and judging by the purple sliver of neck he caught a glimpse of as Keith's hand reached to close his door, he was definitely right.


	5. Outta my Dreams, Into my Car

Keith kept his eyes firmly locked onto the back of Lance's neck, on the tousled hair gathered at his nape. He was dressed for the mission, Keith realized guiltily, with an inconspicuous black ACDC hoodie and ripped jeans. Even through the baggy material of the hoodie Keith could make out the muscles in his back, flexing up to his neck.

The moment he'd been alone in his bedroom he'd been caught between falling to the floor in a puddle of adrenaline, or springing back through his door and slamming Lance against the wall, purely to relieve the pent up sexual frustration stirring low in his belly. Keith hated it when people defended him - he was perfectly capable of doing that himself. So why, _why_ did it make him so hot when Lance did it?

He hopped into his car, the same convertible with white stripes he'd driven Keith home in the other day. He sat patiently in the driver's seat while Keith paused, slowly approaching the passenger side of the car, gently sitting in the buttery leather seat.

Lance watched Keith sit down with the delicacy of a flower on updraft, shaking his head with a smug, discreet roll of his eyes. The engine purred beneath them as he started the car, observing Keith rubbing at his neck besides him. He sighed, sensing Keith was still a little on edge from a few moments prior but deciding that was probably a conversation to be had later, instead pulling away from the curb and swinging the car around.

The bridge between Keith's eyebrows creased as Lance started driving further into the decrepit street, further downtown, rather than back towards Altea.

“Where are we going?” He asked quietly, as if he were afraid Lance was taking him to some alley so he could discreetly dump his body.

Lance scowled at him, “Where we were meant to be going before you stood me up.” He turned his attention back to the road ahead of him, the buildings slowly becoming more and more run down, until they were in a wasteland of old apartment complexes and shopping centers.

A gangland funfair.

They eventually arrived at the location that was in the file Shiro had given them, an apartment building shittier than Keith's, over five stories high. Lance parked out of the way, wishing he’d borrowed Matt’s car, his flash blue Cadillac looking out of place amongst the graveyard of dusty grey vehicles that lined the streets.

Lance reclined in his seat, eyes fluttering closed, relaxing. There was an awkward yet comfortable tranquility between them; after years of arguing and purposefully airing each other it would be weirder for them to talk now than the silence they settled into.

Lance's foot emerged from under his seat, stretching in front of Keith to push the dash unit open, seemingly hundreds of store-bought sandwiches and soda cans spilling out of the concealed drawer.

"In case you get hungry." Lance mumbled in explanation, foot returning to the floor, eyes still tightly closed shut. Keith took a moment to observe the look of calm on Lance's face, one he hadn't had the opportunity to observe so far. Lance's skin was incredibly smooth, the few times Keith had been able to touch it had resembled a soft pillow beneath his fingertips. He had a defined jaw and cheekbones, and full lips, and even though they were close Keith could picture the brilliant blue of his eyes.

So he had a bit of a crush. Always had- Lance was the one who considered them rivals. Which was fair, he had every right to be pissed at Keith for the years of not showing up for work and ditching missions. But there was something about him that stirred a part of Keith he'd long considered locked away. Being part of the same gang meant he was forced to look at Lance all the time... it was hard to pretend he didn't notice how unfairly gorgeous he was.

But before he'd mustered enough courage to approach him, Lance had deemed him a lazy, uncooperative scumbag (partially true) and all his chances were shot.

"Thanks..." He mumbled, wondering how long it had taken him to answer. Hopefully not long, otherwise Lance might have read into his painful silence, deducing every thought in a glance. He had a tendency to do that. He leaned forwards, retrieving one of the packaged sandwiches from the floor, a substitute for his missed breakfast. Though he much preferred sandwiches with Lance than eggs and bacon with Aaron.

Reaching up to rub his neck again, he noticed Lance staring at him from the corner of his eye, one of them opened into a narrow slit. Keith's hands paused, instead going to tear the packet in his hands open.

Lance kept gazing at the slim junction of Keith's neck to his clothed shoulders that Lance knew were a pale porcelain beneath, marred with what he knew were undoubtedly bruises, unless his eyes had lied to him. He opened his mouth, dry from not speaking for a while, and mumbled the question that had been nagging at him for the last half hour.

“So, who was that guy at your apartment?”

He watched as Keith's mouth paused mid-chew, throat working to swallow the large clump of ham and cheese in his mouth, answer coming out muffled by the crumbs.

"Just a friend." Keith responded evasively, making Lance frown with displeasure.

"Do you sleep with all of your friends?"

Keith side eyed him, giving him a cold glare from the passenger's seat, "My private life is none of your business. You hardly know me." He defended.

Lance huffed, reaching forwards to grab at one of the sandwiches on the dash, “You’re right, I don’t know you. I’m just not cool with people roughing you up when you’re clearly not okay with it.”

Keith froze halfway through a bite, his eyes fixed on his sandwich slowly dragging over to the profile of Lance’s face, wavering. Lance tore his sandwich packet open forcefully, disposing of it out the window.

“What do you mean-?"

Losing his patience Lance suddenly turned to the dark-haired boy next to him, eyes blazing indignantly, “I mean the fucking bruises on your neck, mullet.”

Keith stayed frozen in place, hand subconsciously reaching up to pull his scarf further up until it was almost over his chin. Lance scoffed.

“I’m not stupid.” He mumbled, turning back to his window and tearing a bite out of his sandwich with jagged incisors, “The scarf, the scratching- hell, you looked ready to run ten blocks when he touched you.”

Keith huffed, temper rising, “What gives you the right to-"

“You could kick his ass in a heartbeat, chico estúpido. Why do you let him push you around?” Lance mocked with a puzzled expression, brows knitted together with the crease in the bridge between them, “You obviously don’t like the guy.”

Keith tossed the wrapper of the store-bought sandwich into the dash, sinking further into the seat and his sweater, tucking his chin beneath the folds of fabrics around his neck.

“It’s complicated. Besides, who I sleep with is none of your business.”

“It is when I know it’s hurting you!” Lance exclaimed, trying to swallow his words back when he realized how passionately he spoke, avoiding looking into Keith's surprised gaze, “I mean, we’re working together. So you need to be in good shape otherwise you’ll just drag me down with you.” _Nice save, idiot._

Everything was silent after that, apart from a small scoff of disbelief from Keith, both of them steaming with anger in their seats. Keith just kept his eyes fixed to the door to Faith’s apartment building, waiting for something to happen that would diffuse the tension curling thickly in the air.

“Just... please don’t tell Shiro.” He eventually whispered, and Lance wouldn’t have heard if there had been just one other car driving past. His gaze snapped to Keith, and he released his frustration with a breath of air.

“Fine, but... the next time that guy, or any other guy like him is at your apartment, call me. I’ll come get you.”

Keith was puzzled by Lance's sudden offer, and honestly, so was Lance. The only strong feelings he'd ever felt for Keith were resentment and vexation. But seeing that man's hands on his waist, threatening him with just a touch- it got to Lance. Maybe it was due to the constant harassment he'd seen his sister succumb to since she'd filled out her curves that made him so furious at any unsolicited touch given to anyone. Surely that must have been it, cause what else could explain the fury that overtook his heart not _at_ Keith, but _for_ him, an undying need to throw that man's hands off him and hold him until he ceased shaking.

Keith had always been this untouchable warrior. Lance never thought he'd see him afraid, let alone by a touch. But when that man had touched him, Keith had been petrified, Lance knew, and it wasn't due to a few bruises. Keith was too strong, to fierce to give in to a hand on his neck. No, there was something else that had made him give in, succumb to the pain Lance knew for a fact Keith could easily stop with a quick flick of his wrist and the viper grip of his thighs.

He just couldn't figure out what.

"Lance, look." Keith whispered under his breath, nodding towards a recently parked car. He'd had his eyes fixed on the ominously black vehicle for twenty minutes, puzzled by the fact nobody had emerged from it in that time, before now. Someone slipped out, dressed head to toe in black, petite frame and sizable bust implying they were female. She exited the car alone, a familiar emblem on the leather jacket hugging her back- the same one every one of Faith's operatives wore.

Lance and Keith got to work. Keith reached into his rucksack, quickly retrieving his heavy-duty camera, ducking below the window to snap a few photos, struggling to get a clear view of the girl's face as she ducked into Faith's building.

As soon as the door slammed shut, the girl disappearing up the stairwell, Keith and Lance hopped out of his car towards the fire escape.

"What's her apartment number?"

"2a." Lance whispered as they climbed up the fire escape to the second floor, ducking down next to the first window along. There were muffled voices inside, prompting Lance to reach into his pocket for one of the gadgets he'd received from Matt earlier.

"What's that?" Keith murmured as Lance suctioned it to the wall adjacent to the window.

"Infrared detector." Lance hushed as the screen lit up, displaying four distinct human heat signatures.

"Four of them." He mumbled, "Easy enough."

Keith cocked his brow at Lance as he retreated to the edge of the metal platform, crossing his arms in front of himself, ready to throw his body through the window and take down the four people. He readied himself, seconds from springing forwards before a cold hand grabbed hold of his own.

He glanced down at Keith as the smaller man silently motioned to the pane of the window. He cocked his brow, receiving a sarcastic eye roll. Keith pulled him down by his hand, back into position next to the window.

“The pane is wired, I’m guessing with some sort of explosive.” He mumbled, running his finger along the splintered wood, coming up with no dust, “It’s recent- they must have known we'd be coming.”

Lance nodded as he spotted the thin blue and yellow wires decorating the inside of the pane, painted with crackling blue, worn with age.

"Okay then, plan B." He mumbled, holding his thumb against the button on the side of the small grey PIR detector, activating it with a small bleep, "Matt modified it so it enhances sound." He explained quickly, feeling Keith's inquisitive gaze boring into the side of his head.

He plugged in a pair of headphones to the transmitter, handing one bud over to Keith. They winced in sync as the sound came blaring through, the distinct noise of a woman yelling.

“-one job! Get the cargo to South Beach before pick-up. _How_ did you miss it?!”

There was some crackling through the transmitter, the sound of three people shuffling in place as they scrambled for the right thing to say. Lance and Keith watched with bated breath as one of the glowing heat signatures stepped forwards, the tallest of the three.

“The Galra are not to be trusted,” Lance and Keith heard him growl, “We arrived on time, with the cargo. They stood us up.” 

Lance’s mouth parted, blue eyes open wide, and Keith thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind, he must have been of similar stature. Lance blinked over to him, confirming they’d heard the same thing by the flabbergasted expression on Keith’s face.

The Galra? They were their biggest rivals. The Lions were known as the vigilant sentinels of San Francisco, notorious thugs, each of them without a family for one reason or another, who all found family within each other. They took jobs from clients looking to avenge themselves or their loved ones, praying on the worthless criminals that lurked on the streets of San Francisco. They were vigilantes, looking to keep their beloved city safe. They kept their hands clean.

The Galra, however, took jobs from the very people The Lions fought to squash, earning their cash no matter who they had to hurt, or kill. It struck something inside of Lance. He wondered where he might be if it hadn’t been Shiro, but a member of The Galra, to pick him off of the deadly street corner he and Cat had lived by. Once upon a time he hadn’t been all that different to them.

Either way, if The Galra were involved, it was far worse than they feared.

There was a deadly silence both in and out of the apartment, the bright figures on the screen so still in place Keith and Lance both momentarily wondered if the detector had frozen. Slowly, Faith raised up out of her seat, and it’s then the boys caught sight of her hand, clawed around an object undetectable by the PIR, finger positioned around what could only be a trigger.

“The Galra are the most powerful gang in the city.” She snarled, “They must have known the idiots they were meeting were incompetent.”

“Miss Black if you would just-"

“Philip, you were the one to arrange the meeting. Zarkon must have sensed your lack of loyalty.” Faye cocked her head, and Lance noticed the man clenching his fist.

“You doubt my loyalty?” He croaked.

“How can you doubt something you do not have?” Faith sneered, “Officer.” She raised her pistol.

Keith jumped as a single bullet fired, a small blip appearing on the sensor before one of the men fell to the ground. The blast resonated down the street, echoing off the walls and down the alleys nearby, alerting every person within a hundred meters of the gunshot. Keith released a small squeak, eyes widening and body thrashing as a hand suddenly slapped over his mouth.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He froze when he heard Lance in his ear, “Calm down or they’ll hear us.”

Slowly, Lance removed his hand from Keith’s lips, but he remained a constant presence at his back, breathing down his neck and doing nothing to help the hammering of his heart.

“Lance…” Keith murmured, hearing Lance give a questioning hum into his ear.

“…you can let go of me now.” He whispered, smirking under his breath as Lance’s hands immediately sprung off of his leg. They were alarmed by a new sound coming from the transmitter, the criminals appearing to have also recovered from the shock of the gunshot.

“Next time- get. It. Done.” They heard Faith snarl, flinching as there was a small click, the sound of her pocketing the still smoking gun.

“Yes, ma’am.” The two remaining lackeys mumble, still as duel moonbeams.

“We _need_ to keep a low profile.” She growled, “The Lions fooled us once, we can’t afford any more slip ups like this.”

“What do you need us to do?” A female voiced pitched through, the one of the woman Keith and Lance had seen slip into Faith’s building only a few minutes prior.

“We’ll tell Zarkon he was right, and that the mole has been removed.” Faith sneered down at the body at her feet, “You two will deliver the haul to him next week to be sold, and since I'm the only one who seems to know anything around here, I'll go with you this time.”

“Same location?” The remaining man spoke up for the first time, previously just a silent blob of yellow, blue and red leaning against the wall.

Faith huffed, “Our location has been compromised. We’ll do the trade out of state, in Phoenix. We can’t risk The Lions stumbling over another operation.” Lance and Keith watched intently as she stepped over the body, closer to the door, “Now clean up this mess.”

Hearing the door slam shut, the boys finally released a united, long held breath. Lance yanked the PIR detector from the wall, spinning around to find Keith already bounding ahead of him down the stairs of the fire escape towards the car. He huffed, tucking the device back into his pocket before leaping over the fence of the wrought iron platform, back down two stories to the ground, just in time to meet Keith at the bottom of the stairs.

“Lance- hey, wait!” Keith whisper-yelled as Lance yanked him down the narrow alley opposite the building.

“Would you shut up?” Lance hissed, “They haven’t left the building yet. If they see us getting into a car just after a gunshot that we undoubtedly heard, they’ll get suspicious. We have to wait for them to leave first.”

They were chest to chest, face to face, the restricted space in the alley wide barely wide enough to fit one person alone. They were both brimming with adrenaline, panting against one another, fitting snugly together with Keith’s hair just brushing the underside of Lance’s chin. He kept his gaze fixed on Lance’s chest, on the up and down motion as he breathed.

“Are they gone?” He whispered, Lance shaking his head, Keith’s hair tickling his lips.

“They just walked out.” He mumbled, hand unconsciously holding onto Keith’s hip, fingers digging in anxiously. Keith didn’t mind the small nip of pain, it grounded him, helped him look past the fiery touch and focus on the two people jumping into the black car across the street.

They didn’t pull away for a few minutes, a few torturous minutes of bated breath and way too intimate touching. Lance’s hand had trailed up from his hip to the supple skin of his waist, holding it with a protectiveness foreign to Keith, his fingers no longer biting into his skin, providing nothing similarly numbing to distract him from its presence.

Thankfully after a few more seconds there was the rumble of an engine and a screech of tires, and the car disappeared around the next corner. Keith released a sigh of relief as Lance’s hand left his waist and he darted out of the alley, leaving Keith enough room to finally breathe. He blinked a couple of times, focusing back on the wide, dark expanse of wall, not unlike the black cotton of Lance’s hoodie he’d been fixed on moments ago.

When he finally emerged from the alley Lance had already started the car, the engine of his sleek Cadillac emitting a warm purr as Keith slipped inside, juxtaposed to the stark silence he was met with once the door was slammed shut.

Lance tapped his fingers against the wheel contemplatively, head resting defeatedly against the seat. Keith studied him from the corner of his eye, waiting for him to conclude what he had before the bullet had even been fired. Eventually Lance cleared his throat conversationally, turning to Keith.

“That man… he was-"

“Yup.” Keith confirmed, hands clenching, “Shiro’s inside guy, Philip Powell.”

Lance sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and falling against the seat in frustration, “So what do we do now?”

Keith shrugged, “We report back to Altea, tell Shiro and Allura what we heard.”

“About The Galra.” Lance finished, “Should have known those fuckers would be in on this. We never should have trusted Lotor.”

Keith frowned, “We don’t know that he’s in on it. Allura said he’s on our side.”

Lance scoffed, “Please, like a Galra would ever choose the side of peace.”

There was silence for a moment from Keith, Lance’s brow furrowing, “What?” He puzzled.

“Just…” Keith sighed, “Don’t jump to conclusions. More importantly, trust Allura. She wouldn’t bring in a Galra unless she was absolutely sure of his loyalty.”

“And if he isn’t as loyal as she thinks?”

Keith nodded towards the apartment, “You saw what Faith did to the man that betrayed her. Allura may be on the side of the law, but her and Faith are alike in some ways. They’re both undeniably ruthless.”

Lance watched Keith reach beneath the seat, retrieving a discreet black rucksack he hadn’t even seen him stash, diving into it to pull out a small handgun. He cocked it, pulling the hammer back and winding the window down to aim it directly at Faith’s window.

“And so am I.”

Lance jumped as Keith fired at the window, missing the glass by only a smidgen so the bullet went through the pane.

“Wow nice shot mull-"

Lance cut himself off with a high-pitched yell as the apartment went up in flames, blowing out the rest of the windows and littering the pavement with glass. Keith smirked at Lance’s blown wide eyes, motioning to the wheel with a steady hand.

“I’d say we have about five minutes before the local police get here and I’d rather not have to explain this to the cops so-“

Lance glared at him, slamming his foot on the gas and pulling away from the curb at top speed. Keith grinned with adrenaline as they hurtled down the cracked tarmac of the roads, finding immense pleasure in the startled look slapped onto Lance’s face.

“You’re insane.” The Cuban growled, “What if she was still in there! We’d have lost our one lead to-“

“She wasn’t.” Keith rolled his eyes, “I saw her leave, few seconds after the other two. You were too busy being dramatic to notice.”

Lance frowned in offense, “I am not drama-"

“Covering my mouth, jumping off the fire escape and pulling me into that alley, putting your hand on my waist like that. Don't get me wrong, the macho act really works for you, but I don’t need you to protect me.” Keith drawled, rubbing down the smoking hot pistol before tossing it out of the car window, just another discarded weapon among many in the street, “I can do that myself.”

Lance’s lips pursed displeasingly, hands spinning the wheel to fling them round the next corner, Keith’s side slamming into the inside of the car door. He glared at Lance, rubbing his elbow he’d seconds ago bashed against the handle.

“Well thank you for your insight, mullet. I must say the bad boy act works for you too." Lance's sneered, "And for the record I wasn’t being ‘macho’. I was stressed, I was scared, and in situations like those my instinct is to protect the ones I care about.” Lance replied with a glare, “But unfortunately none of them are here right now, so I settled for you.”

They’d reached Altea before Keith had even realized, Keith’s mouth opening in surprise as Lance spun into the gravelly car park. He turned the engine off and spun in his seat to face Keith, who wore an expression of surprise.

“You’re an asshole, Kogane, but right now you are my _partner,_ so I am putting my trust in you to be smart, and _that-"_ He waved his hands frantically towards the site of Faith’s rubbly apartment, “Wasn’t smart.”

Keith felt like he was eighteen again, being scolded by Shiro after coming home too late. Lance frowned down at him with disappointment, and it felt worse than he thought it would.

“She doesn’t have a base any more. And who knows what she had in there? I saw an opportunity to destroy some of her assets and I took it.” He explained calmly, “But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He added sincerely.

"Those assets were _evidence,_ Keith." Lance sighed, carding his hand through his hair and pulling on the handle of his door. Keith sat patiently as he climbed out of the car, coming around to Keith’s side and popping the passenger door open. He outstretched his hand, offering his tanned palm to Keith. Keith gave it a mistrusting glance for a second before reluctantly slipping his hand into Lance’s letting him pull him out of the car.

Much like in the alley, Lance pulled him in close so they were chest to chest, gazing down at him softly. It took Keith by surprise. Lance noticed, of course, admiring the way Keith’s eyes sparkled curiously, pink lips flexing as he swallowed.

“If we’re going to do this, we need to trust each other.” Lance mumbled, “And I won't work with someone who I can’t trust, or with someone who can’t trust me. So, tell me,” He watched Keith wait with bated breath, whispering down at him, “Do you trust me?”

Keith focused in on where Lance held his palm between them, melded together like they were arm wrestling against his chest. Trust, huh? Scrolling back, Keith could only find a handful of people he actually trusted, only one he trusted enough to put his life in his hands- Shiro. To say he trusted Lance would be easy- to actually trust him wholeheartedly was a more difficult task.

But when he finally blinked up at Lance’s eyes he had an epiphany- the way Lance looked at him was familiar, it always had been, he was just so used to seeing hatred sparkling in the deep blue of his eyes he rarely got to see what he was gazing at now- pure, unadulterated kindness. It was the look he’d seen in Shiro’s eyes that had convinced him to get into his car, to let him give him a home and a job, to make him the only person in the world he would trust with his life. And it was the one he now saw in Lance’s.

“Yes.” He replied without even realizing it, clarity spilling over Lance’s face, as well as a wide grin.

“Good, then let’s go report to Allura.”

Keith stumbled forwards a step as Lance pulled away, leaving him feeling surprisingly cold all of a sudden, disappearing into the bar. He took a deep breath before following after him, the suddenly warm summer air following him long after the door of the bar had swung shut.


	6. You Make my Dreams Come True

The resonant sound of ice clinking in glass was the most dominant sound in the room, the Hall and Oats track Lance had selected seeping from the main bar into Allura's office, which was the most crowded it had ever been. Keith was situated by the door, Pidge and Cat sat in the leather chairs opposite Allura's desk. Matt and Lance hovered next to them, Matt situated in a rickety wooden chair beside his sister.

Shiro and Allura were at the head of her desk. Her braids were piled on opposite sides of her head like mouse ears, two symmetrical tendrils hanging loose to kiss at the tips of her ears. A deep red dahlia was pinned to one of the intricate buns, matching the blouse tucked into her flared white skirt, the fabric partially concealed by her leather jacket.

But Lance's eyes weren't on her, nor Shiro, who stared around the room with a commanding energy. No, he was fixated on the man besides Allura, his hair also tied up in a bun at the back of his head, shining white from the dye he lathered it with under the harsh spotlights hanging from the ceiling. Like Allura, he was never seen with his hair down, opting to always have it tied into a bun or a ponytail. He dressed casually, never anything more than some shorts and a t-shirt. Lance was sure he'd almost seem drab besides their beautiful leader, if not for his stupid face. He was so damn attractive he almost put Shiro to shame.

Lance glared at Lotor with a passionate hatred he didn't even spare for _Keith,_ the latter of which observed Lance's petty dispute with a roll of his eyes, gaze snagging on Shiro's, who glowered at him, as he had been for the past week.

It had been eight days since Keith blew up Faith's apartment, and Shiro had called them in for an emergency briefing a few minutes prior. Keith had been surprised to find Lotor already inside the office, softly chatting with Allura as the others spilled into the room. He thought back on the week before, how angrily Shiro's eyes had sparked as he and Lance explained what they'd done- well, what _he'd_ done. 

Luckily Shiro hadn't much time to be pissed at him or give him a lecture, as they went on to tell him about the Galra's involvement with Faith and her crew. Shiro had sprung out of his chair immediately to make some phone calls, leaving him without a minute to yell at Keith. 

Instead, he'd been fixing Keith with poisonous glares the entire week, turning silent whenever Keith entered the room. And boy was Keith sick of it.

Nonetheless, they now knew the Galra were part of the disappearances in their city, so Shiro had much more important things to worry about than Keith's rebellion. The Galra had international links, which meant Faith's trafficking ring was stretching much farther than just San Francisco. So, Allura had decided to rope in some more of her subordinates to help.

Hence why Keith was currently stuck in a small, sweaty room with seven other people. He'd retreated to the doorway to try and escape the claustrophobic squeeze, but still, it managed to linger. 

Allura slowly sunk into her chair, the soft chatter dying down as she gazed intently at them all, making her way around the room. They held in a collective breath, sighing as she did, batting the air with her hand, motioning for Shiro to take a commanding step forward.

"Let's save the introduction, you all know why you're here," He began, "The case Lance and Keith have been working on is more complex than we'd anticipated. So Allura has decided to expand our team for this mission."

"Why is _he_ here?" Lance snarled, glaring at Lotor. Allura sighed at him, giving him a look so deadpan her eyes began to glaze.

"Save your childish dispute for outside my bar, Lance. He is here to help." She dismissed him, gesturing for Shiro to continue his brief. Keith smirked as Lance childishly folded his arms, looking away with a pout.

"From the intel Keith and Lance have gathered we know the next exchange is happening in Phoenix. Thanks to Lotor, we have an exact location." Shiro retrieved the map protruding from his pocket, laying it flat on the desk, upside down to him so the others across the desk could clearly see it.

His finger landed on a minuscule red dot at the border of Arizona, "A warehouse near Lake Havasu. Zarkon is there already."

Lotor stepped forwards, "The 'haul' Faith mentioned consists of three females, all under twenty. My father is collecting them from her to pass on to an international buyer. They have agreed split the revenue equally."

"Lance and Keith will intercept and rescue the hostages, one of which we believe to be Danielle Abbot, the daughter of our client." Allura announced, dropping the photograph of a young, dark haired female onto the desk, "I hate to say it, but we must make saving her our priority."

Lance shook his head, "Fuck that. We'll save all of them." He assured Allura, a few strained lines on her face relaxing as she smiled at him half gratefully, half amusedly.

"So how are we going to do it? Two of Faith's people are going with her to make the trade, and with them _alone_ we're already outnumbered." Keith asked from the other side of the room.

Lotor nodded, "My father has taken four of his most loyal sentries along with him, two of whom will be stationed at the door. I am to join him tonight, ready to make the trade tomorrow."

"Hang on, Lord Hairgel is coming along? When did we decide that?" Lance frowned, Lotor's face remaining stoic, while Keith silently snorted from behind him.

"Lotor holds a position no one else here does- he has Zarkon's trust." Allura said firmly, "He told us where the trade is taking place and will continue to provide us with useful information."

"Yeah until his father pulls on his leash and has him scurrying back." Lance snarled.

"Lance would you call for war upon every Muslim, or every black individual in the world, just because a few misguided ones did something wrong?" Allura said sternly, raising her brow.

Lance scoffed, "No, that would be stupid. But this is-"

"War, Lance." Allura interrupted, pressing his fist against the table, "We are at war with Faith and The Galra, and we need all the help we can get." She leaned forwards, placing her hand on Lance's shoulder, "Lotor is on our side."

Lance swallowed his pride down thickly, retreating back to the far wall. 

"As I was saying," Allura cleared her throat, "Lotor will also be there, ready to step in and protect Keith and Lance if something should happen-"

"I can protect myself." Lance and Keith grumbled in unison, blinking at each other in surprise for a moment before casting their gaze away.

Allura huffed, glaring at them both, "Yes I'm well aware of that, boys. But _should_ you falter, though highly unlikely considering how _incredibly_ bulletproof you are," Her words were slick with sarcasm, "Lotor will be there."

"Hunk is already in Phoenix with Shay visiting her parents and will be your getaway driver once you've rescued the hostages. Cat and Matt will be stationed outside as back up, and will take out the guards at the entrance so you two can slip in." Shiro went on, gesturing to the pair sat in front of him.

"Pidge, you'll need to disable the lights for a while to allow Keith and Lance to grab the hostages. Hunk will drive you close enough to be in range."

Pidge gave Shiro a short nod, squeezing Cat's hand, her girlfriend biting her lip worriedly. It wasn't often Pidge was put out in the field, she wasn't trained much for combat, preferring to make her contributions from her desk in the lab below.

"Lance, Keith, once the lights are down you'll have to take the girls and run. Don't use your guns unless it's absolutely necessary- we want to avoid casualty if at all possible." Allura ordered them, the boys giving simultaneous curt nods. 

"And if they shoot first?" Lance asked.

Allura smirked, cat-like, "Give 'em hell."

"For god's sake, please don't encourage them." Shiro countered as Lance and Keith gave identical, mischievous grins, "We don't want to scare the victims any further."

"What about Faith? Do we take her out if we get the chance?" Keith inquired. Allura paused for a moment, mulling over in her mind, before slowly shaking her head.

"Let's keep this as a retrieve and rescue mission, first and foremost. Taking out Faith would just create a whole new array of trouble. We can agree on a long-term solution once this mission is over."

Everyone in the room nodded, agreeing unanimously. Lance still remained the only one in the room in a sour mood, frown etched into his usually soft features. Keith observed it carefully, wondering what it was about Lotor, other than his heritage, that managed to put it there.

"Then you're dismissed. We leave for Arizona first thing in the morning."

Slowly the small crowd in the room started to dissipate, Cat and Pidge being the first to leave, slowly followed by Allura and Matt, who engaged in light conversation. Keith and Lotor were the last to go. Lance, however, dwindled, watching Shiro rolling up the map splayed across the desk, approaching him slowly.

Shiro noticed him just before he reached his side, greeting him with the usual, soft smile, "Hey Lance, what's up?"

Lance shrugged, biting at the inside corner of his lip, "Just came to say... hey." He said weakly, waving his hand pathetically. Shiro chuckled.

"Come on, go ahead. I already know what you're going to say." Shiro urged him, splaying his hands out in a come-hither motion. Lance rolled his eyes playfully, kicking the heel of Shiro's boot.

"What's the point if you know what I'm gonna say?" He pouted, folding his arms. Shiro smiled endearingly at him, patting Lance's shoulder.

"I can't convince Allura not to let Lotor on the mission, Lance." Shiro said in a softer voice, blinking over to where the tall, pale haired man stood chatting with Keith in a friendly manner just outside the door, the two of them laughing at something he said. Lance caught his gaze, following it to where the two men stood, frowning.

"Great, now he's roped Keith in too." Lance grumbled, mumbling under his breath, "Lord Hairgel and Lord Mullet- the dream team." He waved his hands in a jazzy movement, making Shiro shake his head bemusedly.

"Lotor isn't any concern of mine, nor should he be of yours," He tapped Lance's chest with the rolled-up map, "He can be trusted."

Lance pursed his lips disbelievingly, sighing, "I'm gonna be forced into this whether I like it or not, right?"

Shiro grinned, "See, you're smarter than we give you credit for." He watched Lance's face contort into an expression of offense before chuckling, "So how's it going with Keith?"

Lance stared at him blankly, "How's _what_ going?"

“You two definitely haven’t been fighting as much.” Shiro shrugged nonchalantly, "Figured you'd patched it up or something."

Lance scoffed, "There's nothing _to_ patch up. We were never friends in the first place. Still aren't- he can hardly stand being in the same _room_ as me." He mused.

"Oh yeah?" Shiro smirked, "Cause he's staring at you."

Lance couldn't help the instinctive glance he tossed out of the door and into the main bar, finding Keith still engrossed in conversation with Lotor, sparing Lance not so much as a spiteful glare.

He gave Shiro a pointed look, "Har har."

Shiro grinned, "But you still looked. Admit it, you're a _teeny_ bit interested." He concluded, folding the map in half to tuck back into his pocket, "No need to feel ashamed, Keith's a mysterious guy- when he wants to be." Shiro winked.

He gave Lance a mock salute before hopping around the desk, swinging round the post of the door and disappearing from sight.

 _'He’s always so freakin' cryptic,'_ Lance thought with a scowl, scratching the back of his neck and shaking his shoulders, feeling a pair of eyes on him. But after turning around and observing the remaining patrons, all fixated on their drinks, he shrugged it off as just his imagination.

Meanwhile Keith's gaze bored intently in the back of his head, puzzling over what he could have been saying to Shiro. He'd caught their eyes a couple of times- gossiping, perhaps? It wouldn't surprise him, Shiro was the most loquacious person he'd ever met.

Lotor stood in front of him, unfocused and forgotten by Keith who was _still staring_ and, oh, it was getting weird now, he should probably get back to-

When he blinked back at Lotor he was smirking at him, fully aware of exactly what had caught Keith's attention, hovering in Allura's office behind him. He spun round to stand next to Keith, joining in his intense observation of the back of Lance's neck.

"He doesn't seem to care for me much, does he?" He joked offhandedly, "How exactly did you win him over?"

Keith blinked at him, cocking his head, "Win him over?"

Lotor shrugged, "Last I checked you two boys couldn't stand to glance at each other, yet here you are, only a few feet away and gazing at him with a look in your eyes that is _certainly_ not hatred. In fact, I'd say it's quite the opposite." He observed with a smirk.

Keith glared at him, spinning back around to the bar, "I see why Lance thinks you're such a dick." He mumbled, wincing as Lotor's hand came down on his shoulder.

"So, are you going to tell me? How did you get him to warm up to you?" Lotor asked again, "Don't get me wrong, his scrutiny of me is hardly troubling- in fact it's rather amusing- but Allura is quite close to him and I'd like to be on good terms with him, if I can."

Keith frowned, shrugging, "I'd hardly say he's 'warmed up to me.' Most of the time he just insults me."

Lotor gave him a coy grin, "Ever heard of the boy that pulls on the cute girl's pigtails?" He smirked, "Or in this case, the oblivious thug that teases the cute boy about his... mullet? To be honest I'm not quite sure _what_ that is." He gestured to Keith's hair.

Keith side-eyed him, "Call me cute another time and I'll pry your dick off with this spork." He spun the plastic utensil around in his hand threateningly, Lotor eyeing it with a curious glance.

"Who on earth uses sporks anymore?" He mused.

Keith shrugged, "Allura says they're more convenient."

"Well, I think you understand my point." Lotor pulled them back to the conversation at hand, glancing at Allura's office as Lance emerged from the door, eyes immediately gluing to Keith's frame, "In fact... he's looking at you right now." He murmured into Keith's ear.

Keith froze glancing over at the steps leading to Allura's shattered wooden office door, meeting Lance's gaze, breath momentarily knocked out of him.

“He’s probably looking at you.” Keith muttered, quickly averting his gaze seconds after their eyes locked.

Lotor looked between them with a smirk, noticing Lance's stare still boring into the side profile of Keith's face, “Definitely not.”

Keith huffed, calling Pidge over for a shot and downing it in one, fluid motion.

"Have you told him, yet?" He distantly hears Lotor say over the warm buzz in his ears from the sudden rush of alcohol, briefly wondering just how persistent the rebel Galra was.

"About what?" He mumbled as he picked up another shot glass, brimming with pale yellow liquid.

"You know what." Lotor murmured, "About your father, about your Galra heritage?"

Keith blinked up from his glass, glaring up at Lotor from beneath his brow with fiery violets, "It's not in my DNA, Lotor, I don't see how it's relevant, or how it's my _heritage."_

Lotor shrugged, "It's not in mine either, but that doesn't stop him from hating me." He glanced at Lance for a brief second, then back to Keith, "Are you worried he'll treat you differently? The way he treats me?"

Keith licked his lips of perspiration, a third shot down, "I don't care what Lance thinks of me."

"Well that's just not true." Lotor scoffed, grabbing hold of Keith's wrist before he could tip back another shot, "I think you care more than you realize. I must say, you hide it very well though." He smirked, taking the shot from Keith's slack grip and downing it.

"You should tell him," Lotor said firmly with a gasp as the liquid burned down his throat, "He should know more about you if you're going to be partners. It's a game of give and take, Keith." He fixed Keith with an intense stare, "And he's giving an awful lot, you know?"

Keith nodded uncertainly, averting his gaze to the floor, away from Lotor, away from Lance- away from anyone who may look at him as if he were under scrutiny.

"And besides," Lotor added, rising out of his seat as he caught sight of Allura, "Maybe it'll help him accept me, too." He joked, smiling brightly at Allura as she reached his side.

"Ready to go?" She questioned, "Hi, Keith." She added, giving him a short wave, he waved back as Lotor answered.

"Of course, princess. I'll see you soon, Keith. Think about what I said." Lotor gave him a pointed look as Allura took his hand, leading him out of the bar. Keith nodded firmly, finally breathing once the door slammed shut, sweeping a burst of cold towards him.

He sighed, lifting his jacket off the back of his chair, a swift glance over his shoulder telling him Lance had already departed. Giving Pidge a small, parting nod, he pulled his hair out from under his jacket as she passed over his precious helmet she kept for him under the bar.

"See yah tomorrow, Pidge." He bid goodbye as he kicked the entrance door open, ready to hop onto his bike and get home to his warm, fluffy bed.

However, his plans were momentarily disparaged when he caught sight of the body leaning against the adjacent wall to the door he burst out of. Lance caught sight of him in a flash, pushing off of the wall to greet him.

"Hey, can we... talk?"

Keith swallowed, squinting a little at the sun spilling over Lance's shoulders, lighting up his brown hair like a halo and making his face glow even more than usual.

"Uh, can't it wait till tomorrow? Or at least till after the mission?"

"I'll be quick, I promise," Lance vowed, sighing when Keith reluctantly, lowered his helmet against his hip, his own personal acceptance.

"Tomorrow, when we're out in the field, I _know_ it's gonna be intense. I've seen you fight, you rely mostly on instinct and what's ahead of you, on the enemy, not on who's got your back, since you're used to working alone. So just so you know..."

Lance took a shallow breath, eyes glued to Keith's, _just say it just say it just-_

"...I've got your back." He finished awkwardly, watching Keith's mouth part in surprise.

"Oh..." Keith murmured, feeling his cheeks heat up, and it wasn't due to the evening sun above them.

"Right, well that's all I wanted to say, so..." Lance bit his lip, stepping aside to give Keith a path to his bike, "Have a good night, Keith."

He stepped around Keith still frozen body, because _what was he meant to say to that?_ Lance only ever stuck his neck out for those that mattered, and for Keith to _matter?_ It brought a smile to his face.

"Lance!" He spun around, staring across the short distance between them blankly, "I've got yours, too. You know that, right?"

Lance was visibly taken aback a little, but he smiled nonetheless. It felt like a peace treaty, a promise, even as they drove off in opposite directions.

They were partners. For real, this time.


	7. In the Air Tonight

The wind on his face felt far more exhilarating than usual, the excitement of his upcoming mission filling him with adrenaline and sending sparks from his brain to his toes. He bounced lightly on his seat as he soared over potholes and speed bumps, meant to slow him down but only spurring him faster.

He already knew he'd have trouble sleeping that night. The night before any mission he was like a child on Christmas, eager and impatient to catch Santa Claus laying down his presents- though in this case Santa Claus was a murderous criminal and the presents were several bullets, all aiming for him.

It excited him more than the thought of being shot should.

He neared the bend of the street that led to his gloomy apartment building, swerving around a lamppost onto the pavement, nearly hitting a mother and her child in his zealous movements. He yelled out an apology over his shoulder, turning back to the road with a grin. Again, his enthusiasm would have been quite worrying to a therapist. If he had one.

He discarded any attention he might have paid to the faded white lines indicating a parking spot, simply swinging up at his building and hitching his leg over the seat, shaking the perspiration from his hair as he made his way towards his building. He noticed another car parked similarly, over two spaces, red but turned brown from age, the exhaust almost falling off the trim of the trunk.

If Keith had taken his gaze away then he dreaded to think what may have happened. If not for the familiar, abounding key mark carved into the right side about the wheel, done by him years before, he would have walked right into his building, and met a familiar face he'd wished to never have the misfortune of laying eyes on again.

But luckily his eyes snagged on the scratch, sending a jolt of terror through his core. Once upon a time, this was the first car he'd see every morning, swinging by to pick him up, ensuring he never dared to run.

 _'Ryan,'_ His mind whispered, sending a pang of dread down his spine. Aaron had sold him out.

He felt his keys slip from his grip. There was a clatter, but he couldn't hear it, or anything else over the rapid rush of blood through his ears and barely-there beat of his heart, thumping in his throat.

In the back of his mind he was aware he was running, legs taking him to the nearest alley, the sound of children's playful squeals and car doors slamming like canon balls being shot in his ears. His breath came out as gasps. His head, the walls, the ground- it was all spinning, his heart threatening to burst from his chest any second. It felt like a hurricane was raging in his head, without any peaceful eye of the storm for him to escape to.

It had been years since his last panic attack, four, approximately. Shiro had trained him to manage it, had helped Keith reign in his head and his heart to make them work in tandem, molding him into an expressionless warrior. It had taken months of Shiro running through the halls of his apartment every night to pull Keith from one nightmare after another, his brain creating cruel, vivid images of him being chased, being caught, being forced back into the world he'd so despised.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Keith envisioned a simple pentagon, slowly expanding and deflating, matching it with his stuttering exhales. It was the only exercise Shiro had tried with him that actually brought him some clarity, and even now he felt his heart slow down, at least to the speed of a relaxed rabbit’s, enough he could move his arms and legs.

He fumbled with shaky fingers for his phone, falling against the wall, knees finally giving out as he slid down the harsh brick wall, curling up behind a dumpster. With slow fingers and clouded vision he managed to locate Shiro's number, tapping one, two, three times on the green call button before the pad of his thumb finally landed accurately, the call going through.

He almost cried in despair as it went straight to answerphone, bleeping frustratingly in his ear. Of course, he thought, smacking his forehead, Shiro was at work right now, busy with the mundane agonies of civilian life. He had a limited contact list, but he made his way through it anyways- Allura, Pidge, Matt- but none of them answered, Matt preoccupied with his daughter and Allura and Pidge somewhere with their partners. He didn't even try Hunk and Shay, recalling they were in Arizona.

He felt his heart brimming helplessly, all sound melding together as his head tipped back against the wall. Suddenly, though, like headlights through fog, he heard a voice in his head, clear as crystal amongst the static. A memory, of a voice soft as rain pattering into the ocean.

_’The next time that guy, or any other guy like him is at your apartment, call me. I’ll come get you.’_

Keith immediately turned to his contact list, scrolling down to 'S', finding only the name he was looking for under the sub-category. He chuckled hysterically as he read out the ridiculous nickname, laughing at the entire situation overall, really.

There were several bleeps, each one bringing him closer and closer to a heart attack, but there was eventually a crackle of static in his ear, and a muffled, _'Hello?'_

"L-Lance." He breathed in relief, "Thank god."

 _"Keith?"_ He heard Lance's questioning voice, _"You alright, buddy?"_

Keith chuckled, a curt, unamused sound, "No."

He heard Lance moving around, and the jangle of car keys, _"Where are you? I'll come get you."_

Keith sighed, head lolling to take in the shattered visage of his apartment building.

"My apartment." He breathed, partially out of breath despite being stationary, "Please hurry."

 _"I thought you could look after yourself?"_ He scoffed at Lance's accusing tone, rolling his eyes. Of course he could resist making fun of him, even as he was in a life or death situation.

"Would you just fucking come, please?" He deadpanned, resting his head on the wall. Lance's chuckle was rich as it flooded from the speaker of his phone, making his heart beat faster if it were possible.

 _"There’s the Keith I know."_ Lance grinned, _"On my way, mullet."_

Keith blinked in surprise as Lance hung up, the line going dead in his ear. Lance had been calming him down, without him even realizing it, using their familiarity and crude exchanges to help subdue the stuttering of his lungs. And miraculously, it had _worked,_ his pulse regulating and panting subsiding.

He didn't have to wait long for the screech of tires to reach his ears, Lance's familiar blue Cadillac pulling up just opposite the alley. Keith sighed in relief when he saw Lance's face, opening his dry mouth to croak out.

"Over here."

Lance spun around in the direction of the noise, like a dog sniffing out a bone, eyes landing on the dimly lit alley, and the hunched figure, appearing paler than usual under the harsh white lights.

He sped over to Keith, crouching down so they were level. Keith kept his cheek resting on his knees, head bowed and eyes closed, too ashamed to meet Lance's gaze.

"Hey, mullet." The soft tone of Lance's voice took him by surprise, but not as much as the soothing hand he placed on his forearm, taking his wrist between his fingers to gently massage his pulse.

Slowly, his slipped his hands around Keith's biceps, helping him up onto unsteady feet. He let out a small 'woah, there,' as Keith fell against him, inhaling a sweet, flowery scent wafting off Lance's jacket that smelled awfully like perfume.

Great, he'd interrupted a date, as if he didn't feel guilty enough. What made him feel even worse was the sick relief he got from knowing Lance was there, with him, rather some woman.

“Why didn’t you just jump on your bike and come back to the bar?" Lance scowled as he helped Keith over to his car, sitting him in the passenger seat before coming round to his own, sliding in front of the wheel.

“I just freaked out. Believe me, you weren’t my first choice.” Keith mumbled, resting his chin on his palm as he stared out of the window.

Lance scoffed, "A thank you, would be nice." He frowned, pulling the brake back as he reversed ff the curb, spinning the car around the make his way back into the sunny streets of San Francisco.

Keith winced, turning to gaze up at Lance apologetically, "Sorry. Thank you."

Lance nodded, engine humming beneath his feet, "It was no problem, Cat and Pidge had just left for date night, so I was gonna be bored for a few hours anyway."

"What about the woman you were with?" Keith bit his tongue a little too late, the words escaping his lips before he'd time to process them.

"I wasn't with a woman." Lance's brow furrowed, "What gave you that idea?"

Keith's ears heated up bashfully, head spinning back round to try and hide them, "You smell weird."

Lance gave him a puzzled look, pulling up the collar of his shirt to sniff at it warily, shrugging his shoulders, "Huh. Must have been Cat's perfume rubbing off on me when she hugged me." He replied, turning to find Keith pointedly not looking his way.

Lance smirked, "What, were you jealous?"

Keith scowled at him, rolling his eyes, "I was just wondering how on earth you got a woman to come home with you."

"Ouch." Lance chuckled, clutching his chest, "You really know where to hit me where it hurts, mullet."

Keith was a little perturbed by Lance's nonchalance. Usually a comment like that would have them bickering all the way home, going their separate ways in a fury. They'd never joked around before, like actual friends. A few weeks ago they were barely acquaintances. It was... refreshing, seeing this side of Lance, the one everyone else got to see.

"So, where do you want me to drop you, pretty boy?" The words died out a little the moment they hit Lance's tongue, but Keith heard him loud and clear, judging by the intrigued cock of his head.

"Pretty boy?" He smirked.

Lance swallowed shrugging it off with a roll of his eyes, "Don't let it get to your head."

Keith continued to smile smugly, casting Lance perceptive glances that made him squirm in his seat.

"I don't have anywhere to go, really." Keith mused, finally catching up with Lance's question once the cocky haze had swept over him. Lance's mouth twitched in thought.

"Alright, I know somewhere you can go." Lance supplied with a soft smile, "Don't worry, it's excellent accommodation."

Ten minutes later the eerie city scenery ebbed away, zooming past his window and morphing into a more domestic silhouette of two tiered houses and immaculate lawns. Lance pulled up in front of an apartment block almost the foil of Keith's, glowing white in the sliver of pale moonlight that stole past the cloudy bollards in the sky.

It was dark, but Keith could still make out a few large family cars parked in the lot as Lance swung into it, engine cutting out with a swift turn of his keys. He pocketed them before hopping out of the vehicle, headed right towards to entrance of the building.

Keith jumped out right after him, albeit more hesitant as he approached Lance, who was pushing in a few digits into a silver panel to the right of the door. It opened with a flourish, and Lance reached out to hold it open, motioning for Keith to enter.

Keith cocked his brow uncertainly, "Where am I, exactly?"

Lance grinned, "You'll know soon enough, mullet." He stepped inside, one hand still on the handle to stop it slamming in Keith's face, "I promise you wont be murdered." He added.

Keith took his turn stepping over the threshold glancing around the ground floor of the building curiously. Though not very different to the floor plan of his own building's lobby, there were a few homely touches that gave it a more inviting atmosphere- large floor to ceiling windows that let in the moonlight, potted plants that were regularly tended to and soft, fluffy brown carpet adorning the staircase.

He followed Lance up said stairs, counting the floors as they ascended. One, two, three- once he'd reached four Lance deviated towards the beige painted door leading to an array of humble flats. Keith trailed after him in silence.

Lance stopped at a door near the end of the hall, retrieving a slim silver key from his pocket. Keith's mouth opened in the shape of an 'O' as the door popped open after a short turn of the key, a grin stretching across Lance's lips.

Keith stepped in skeptically, observing the few frames on the porch table and colorful pieces of art adoring the walls. Lance and Cat appeared in nearly every photo, other than a faded, sepia looking photograph in a golden frame, a young man and woman looking up at the camera gleefully, a small baby in her hands wearing a bright yellow jumpsuit. 

"Lance..." Keith drawled, blinking up at his companion, "Why are we at your apartment?"

Lance shrugged, toeing his shoes off as he delved deeper into his home, disappearing around the wall after shouting a quick, "You needed somewhere to stay, right?"

Keith stepped into the main floor of the apartment tentatively, turning the corner into a joint kitchen and dining area. Despite the hideous faded yellow wallpaper, he had to admit it was comfortable looking. Lance was stood at the cupboards, kettle water bubbling in front of him on the white tiled counter dutifully, cabinets suspended above with chipping blue paint.

The chair cushions were perfectly mismatched, clashing colors and patterns fitting right in with the rest of the disarray Keith could see. It wasn't like the sort of rooms you saw in home catalogs and department stores, everything in it's place, shiny and untouched. It was much more Lance.

"Did you eat?" Lance suddenly asked.

Keith blinked at him.

Lance chuckled, "Take a seat, I'll make you something."

Keith did as he was told, lowering himself into one of the cushiony dining chairs, sitting precariously on the edge. He watched Lance's back with intrigue, observing the muscles and tendons pulling together beneath his warm skin as he reached up into a shelf for the toaster, defined and razor sharp, just like the rest of him.

Keith fiddled with the hem of his jumper, tactfully covering the still slightly bruised skin of his neck. He'd been skillfully hiding it from Shiro all week, thanks to Lance's discretion, never bending down or moving in any way that wold make the fabric on his body slip too far. They'd stopped causing him any pain a while ago, now they were more bothersome to hide than to feel. 

Lance joined him at the table minutes later, placing a plate of toast and a steaming mug in front of him, wafting green tea smell towards him. He held his own mug delicately, softly blowing puffs of air at the hot steam before sipping, releasing a satisfied 'ah.'

With an inconceivable sigh Keith lifted a piece of toast, catching a bit of butter with his finger and licking it into his mouth, eyes darting over to Lance, only to find him looking right back, eyes observant and clouded.

"W-What?" Keith shuffled uncertainly in his seat, glancing back and forth.

Lance shifted towards him, mouth twitching in puzzling thought.

"Just wondering if you're ever gonna start talking." He frowned slightly, "If I'm gonna cover for you you'll have to tell me some of the story- I'm assuming you want me to keep this from Shiro, yes?"

Keith gulped down another mouthful of crisp bread, staring down at the table uncomfortably. Lance had, per usual, hit it right on the nose.

"Come on, Keith." Lance said softly, taking the pale raven aback by his gentler tone. Keith made the mistake of glancing up at him, instantly hooked on the unwavering pool of blue gazing right past his supple skin into his chest, where his heart beat maniacally.

"Tell me what happened. I can't help unless you do." Lance said calmly, forcing Keith's face into a displeased frown.

"I don't need your help."

Lance rolled his eyes, arms sliding off the table and falling back against his chair dramatically.

"Y'know, needing help doesn't make you weak, _idioto._ Everyone needs it every now and then, even you." Lance leaned forwards, only a breath apart, "Who was that guy, Keith?"

Keith swallowed, unable to tear his gaze away from Lance for a moment as he involuntarily mumbled, "My ex-boss."

Lance's face contorted into a puzzled expression, "Your ex-boss? What does he want with you?"

Keith shrugged, lips poised as the same, usual lie slipped past them, "Just very eager to get me back as an employee."

Lance frowned disbelievingly, folding his arms together, "You expect me to buy that bullshit? You were so terrified of him you called me to come pick you up! _Me."_

Keith scowled at him over his mug, "I wasn't scared. I just didn't feel like dealing with him today."

Lance scoffed, eyes rolling back into his head, "Jesus Christ Keith, I'm asking you to tell the truth _just this once_ and you can't do it?" He clucked his tongue, "What work did you even do, anyway?"

“What work did _you_ do?” Keith countered, staring at Lance defensively from across the table.

They shot each other duplicate scowls, Lance rubbing his face with his hands before lifting Keith's empty plate and his own, barren mug, carrying them over to the sink.

"Fine, don't tell me, but next time you find yourself in a situation like that, don't count on me being around to come save you."

Keith huffed frustratingly, "I don't _need_ you to come save me!"

"Yeah well maybe I want to!" Lance yelled, the kitchen falling silent as he frowned at the floor. Keith stayed frozen at the dining table, mug still in his hands, cooling by the second.

"Y-you..." Keith stumbled, pressing his lips together in a thin line as he desperately scrambled for the right words to say.

"I told you, didn't I...?"

Keith glanced up at him, eyes wide and confused as Lance released a curt laugh, no hint of amusement to it.

"...I've got your back, mullet."

Keith's mouth went slack as Lance traipsed over to the kitchen door, disappearing for a second before ducking his head back round the wooden frame, "Cat will probably be staying round Pidge's, so you can use her room." He motioned towards the room opposite the kitchen.

Keith waited in silence, watching as Lance shuffled through an archway across the hall, next to Cat's closed bedroom door, releasing a large puff of air he hadn't even realized he was holding into the still air. His eyes were blown wide, both from surprise and to help him focus with only the pale luminous light of the moon through the open kitchen window maintaining his vision.

He slowly raised up out of his seat, placing his mug into the damp sink before dragging his feet out of the room, towards the door Lance had disappeared through.

The TV was buzzing softly, Lance's tall frame visible over the back of the couch, shoulders slumped. From his position Keith could see the side of his body, and the displeased frown dancing on his lips. His eyes were glazed over, completely unfocused from what was happening on the screen ahead of him. Keith's heart drooped guiltily as he came to a stop at the threshold of the lounge. 

He spared a glance around the tiny room, appreciating the coziness Lance had instilled in it, much like the rest of the flat. The couch was old, but visibly squishy, with mattress like cushions, and though the light was dim, the bright colors and wall hangings popped.

Keith swallowed thickly, clearing his throat to get Lance's attention, the Cuban glancing over with droopy eyes, only making Keith feel worse for being the cause of his exhaustion.

"I'm..." Keith began strongly, trailing off as Lance captured him with an intense glare, making him swallow. He exhaled shakily, clenching his fists as he began again.

"I'm sorry." He gave Lance a firm stare, seeing the Cuban's jaw slacken a little from it's defensive position. He sighed, pacing over to the couch, lowering himself into the opposite side and- wow it was even squishier than he thought.

Lance chuckled as Keith was almost absorbed into the couch cushions, scrambling to sit upright, cheeks dusted with embarrassment. He released a puff of air, glaring at Lance as he finally settled into a comfortable position, fingers fiddling with his oversized sweater.

He sighed, "Look, I'm not... used to this sort of thing."

"You mean apologizing?" Lance smirked, "I can tell."

Keith's gaze bored into him angrily and he couldn't help but laugh again, Keith's cheeks still bright pink from his previous endeavor with the couch cushions, part of his hair thrown over the border of his parting.

Lance shuffled forwards a little, leaving little space between them as he reached up towards Keith's face. He let himself indulge in the shock painted in Keith's expression as he edged closer and closer, capturing the disobedient strand of hair.

"Wh-what are you-?" Keith held his breath.

"Just a sec." Lance whispered as he rearranged Keith's hair back into place, smiling softly as it was brought back to it's usual, imperfect perfection.

"Thanks." Keith's breath ghosted past his lips as Lance returned back to his seat, swallowing the fog in his throat.

"So, you were apologizing?" Lance grinned, and Keith instantly went back to hating him.

"You're a smug bastard." He glared, only making Lance's grin wider.

"And you can't speak Spanish, chico bonito."

Keith's brow furrowed, "That doesn't even make sense."

"It would if you spoke Spanish."

Keith sighed in frustration, pulling at his recently arranged hair. Lance laughed, light and guttural, throwing his head back.

"What is so funny?!" Keith exclaimed, frustration rising by the second.

Lance just cupped his chin, giving him a lopsided grin as he gazed at him, "You."

Keith's ears burned and he gave a final huff, "I came here to say sorry and you just-"

Lance's laughing slowly died out and he patted Keith's hand apologetically, "Sorry, stuff like this makes me anxious. It's easier for me to joke around than take it seriously."

Keith sucked at the corner of his lip, "I don't like it either."

Lance smiled, eyes crinkling into crows feet, "Hey, at least now we have something in common!"

They chuckled, falling into a short, easy silence before Keith started speaking again, clearing his throat to gain Lance's attention again.

"I'm just... not used to opening up to people, I guess." He mumbled solemnly, rubbing at his knees, curled into his chest.

"If we're gonna work together, you can't keep secrets from me." Lance said softly, "Especially ones that jeopardize your safety."

It was frustrating for Lance. He wasn't the guardian of The Lions for nothing- it was his natural instinct to protect the ones he cared about, and that unfortunately now included Keith, who'd admittedly been getting on his nerves a lot less recently.

"It's just... hard to explain." Keith said defeatedly, and Lance softened as he saw Keith deflate a little.

"Hey, we all have shitty pasts, ones we all wish we could hide," He stated firmly, "But they're a part of us, and they're what connect us all." Lance crawled forwards, placing his hands over the paler ones on Keith's knees.

Keith blinked up at him hesitantly, only urging Lance to keep a tighter grip on his hands, curling his fingers around Keith's own, slimmer ones.

"I can try and help you keep your demons at bay..." He murmured, slightly distracted by the smoothness of Keith's hands, sustained by the constant use of his black gloves. They slid into his calloused, grooved palms perfectly.

He glanced up at Keith, their eyes locking, "...but you have to decide if they are worth keeping to yourself, enough to put your life at risk."

Keith felt breathless, the softness of Lance's words and touch giving him the urge to cry, surfacing a whole ocean of emotions he'd hidden away. But Lance's eyes were also the ocean, after all, ones deep and blue enough they could hold his burdens easily, and with his tender touches and caresses, maybe he was what Keith needed to let them out.

He opened his mouth to respond, a flood of words at the ready, wavering in his throat, but was curtly interrupted by a loud yawn from Lance.

"Alright, we should definitely sleep." Lance concluded, as if he hadn't just opened an entire can of worms in Keith's brain, "We have a long drive tomorrow. Night, mullet."

Keith was frozen on the couch, deterred for only a brief second by Lance's hand on his head, mussing his hair up before disappearing into his bedroom, the click of the door faintly reaching Keith's ears, mingling with the roaring rush of blood he could also hear.

His knees wobbled a little as he stood up, the thumping in his ears bouncing around his skull with vibrato, his eyes dancing around the room out of habit for anyone who may hear the sound, despite knowing Lance was already too far away to hear his raging heartbeat.

He stumbled towards Cat's bedroom, tumbling into her bed without even attempting to observe what else was inside the room, feeling it was to invasive. He reached up to rub at his temple's frowning.

 _"Get a grip."_ He hissed into the dead of night through gritted teeth, turning over to bury himself under the soft, hipster patterned sheets. Squeezing his eyes shut, tightening his grip around his pillow. Lance's eyes, Lance's smile, Lance's stupid hair- his every thought was plagued with Lance, even after he closed his eyes, despite his best efforts to distract his mind with something else.

One conversation- one short, _stupid_ conversation, after months of teasing and taunting and poisonous glares from across the bar and he'd been ready to pour out his entire soul, his entire history, to someone who evidently hated him. Lance gave him no more attention or touch than he gave anybody else- heck he'd seen him hold _Hunk's_ hand, while exaggeratedly slow dancing to Mariah Carey.

But Lance had this uncanny ability to make him feel special, like his fleeting touches and soft tone weren't just courtesy.

Lance was dangerous, he knew. So why couldn't he stop himself from falling?


	8. Freelove Freeway

He was woken by the sound of laughter and pans clattering in the kitchen. Distantly, he could make out the smooth baritone of Lance's voice, prompting his eyes to crack open. He blinked a couple times, met with a swirl of blue, purple and black as he took in the furniture of Cat's room, his memory helpfully supplying that Lance had invited him to stay the night.

He could make out three voices in the kitchen, two, more feminine, high pitched tones mixing with Lance's deeper one a few feet away from the door. He sat up wearily, rubbing at his eyes to retrieve the prickly dust from the corners. He exhaled tiredly before pushing himself up, knees bucking like a newborn horse as he staggered from the bedroom, emerging into the kitchen.

He faintly heard a clatter, eyes meeting with ones of amber as Pidge stared at him wide eyed, hand going limp and milk splashing from her cereal as she dropped her spoon, including onto her girlfriend's lap, who was sat right besides her.

"Katie watch what you're-!" Cat jumped up, beginning to scold her before she also caught sight of Keith, hand slapping over her mouth.

Lance, oblivious to the situation, was at the stove, turning over bacon and stirring a pot of beans. Though it didn't take long for him to catch on, the ominous silence of the kitchen catching his attention, causing him to also blink up.

What Keith hadn't realized before stumbling into the room was that sometime during the night, he'd subconsciously kicked his jeans off, leaving him in only his sweater and boxers, making for quite the suggestive picture as Cat and Pidge gawked at him, minds jumping to conclusions, as anyone's would have.

Lance's mouth had fallen open as well, hands frozen above the now burning pan of bacon as he dragged his eyes up and down Keith's frame, past smooth, pale legs that disappeared beneath a jumper he was 100% sure Cat and Pidge have assumed is his, considering the way it draped loosely over Keith's shoulders, threatening to slip down any second.

"You two...?" Pidge croaked, gaping at them both, trying her hardest not to stare at Keith's scantily clad form.

Lance waved his hands in fron of him, "No no no! _No_ we did _not!"_ He frantically denied, "He just..."

Keith glanced between them blankly, bridge between his brow creased in confusion.

"...slept over." Lance finished weakly, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted to tear his gaze away from Keith's legs. Don't get Lance wrong- there was no denying Keith was a man. He'd filled out, with a toned abdomen and sculptured cheeks, as well as thighs that could kill a man. But they were countered with delicate, cat-like curves and a small stature that made him incredibly endearing, dare Lance say _adorable_ when he was caught of guard without his usual defensive glare.

Like right now, for example, with nothing on his face but dazed confusion, coupled with a sweater that Lance could easily imagine as his own, the ends touching Keith's finger tips, curled round the digits as Keith awkwardly clung to them, the mussed up locks of his hair and just hidden hem of his boxers- it was a sight Lance could easily imagine waking up to.

Reeling back at his own thoughts for a second, Lance blinked himself beck to reality- _'woah okay you only just started tolerating the guy, it's a bit soon for thoughts like those, Lance.'_ He scolded himself.

"Keith." He said firmly, refusing to look up from the floor as he massaged his temple, "Would you please put some clothes on?" He bit out through gritted teeth.

Keith blinked - once, then twice - before his face turned flaming red, and he realized the cold breeze on his legs hadn't been due to the thinness of his jeans. He bolted from the room, feet skidding on the smooth linoleum tiles of the kitchen as he flew back into Cat's room.

Cat cleared her throat awkwardly, "So, you two...?"

Lance scowled, "We _didn't_ \- we aren't like that. He just crashed here last night."

Pidge furrowed her brow, "Why?"

Lance opened and closed his mouth, panicking as he sought a suitable excuse that wouldn't give Keith reason to dismember him.

Luckily that's when Keith reappeared, jeans re-donned, thank god, his feet hesitantly pacing him into the kitchen to sit at the table.

"Uh... my apartment flooded." He supplied weakly.

Lance nodded eagerly, "Yes! And nobody else was around, so I said he could stay here."

They both sighed in relief, both Pidge and Cat glancing at each other before shrugging, seemingly accepting that as a suitable, believable answer. Lance cleared his throat, spinning around, pan of bacon in hand.

"Breakfast, anyone?"

They all agreed eagerly, and Lance took his time going around the table, loading up each plate with a mountain of bacon, beans and bread fresh from the toaster. A proper, Cuban breakfast, that Keith would never be able to wholly consume in a hundred years.

He waited for Lance to come to his side, whispering into his ear as he leaned down to pile up his plate a small, "Thank you."

Lance winked at him as he returned to the island, dumping the now empty pans into the sink before taking his own seat at the table, between Keith and Cat. There was nothing but the sound of consumption for the first few minutes, disturbed by Pidge leaning back in her chair, perceptively observing the two boys on the other side of the table wearing light blushes on both their cheeks.

"So, Keith, are you riding with us?" She asked, sipping at her coffee, wrinkling her nose, "Why is there sugar in this?"

"Because it's my coffee, amor." Cat patted her cheek, supplying Pidge with her own mug of dark, pure black coffee.

Keith blinked, feeling Lance's eyes on him, waiting for a reply.

"Riding where?" Keith asked feebly.

"To Lake Havasu? You know, we have that mission we've been planning for weeks..." Pidge trailed of sarcastically as Keith caught up.

"Oh, right, that." Keith chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well I was going to take my bike, but..."

Lance nodded in understanding. Keith's bike was still back at his apartment, and Keith was unsure if Ryan had left yet.

"You were going to ride twelve hours on a motorbike?" Pidge frowned.

Keith blinked, "I've done longer."

Lance snorted, shaking his head as Cat muffled her laughter with her palm, "What are you?"

"He's Keith." She supplied, only prompting them into further laughter.

Keith looked between them impassively, brow cocked slightly. Pidge rolled her eyes.

"Don't mind them, they're mostly just laughing at themselves." She huffed, "So are you riding with us or not?"

Feeling Lance's eyes on him, Keith shrugged, "Sure."

Cat grinned, shoving another forkful of bacon into her mouth, "Keith and Lance in a car together for twelve hours. What could go wrong?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

"You idiot why did you turn left?!"

"Cause the map said so!"

"It was right left _right!"_

"Don't tell me how to read maps!"

"You're holding it _upside down."_

"I _know that_ I'm doing it on purpose!"

"That's literally the _stupidest thing_ ever!"

"Well you're shoving too hard!"

"You're not shoving hard enough!"

Cat rested her head on Pidge's shoulder, filing down her nails, cheek scratching on the coarse material of her girlfriend’s denim jacket. She kept one hand on Pidge's thigh, lightly tickling the skin there, clad with black tights, trying her hardest to ignore the bickering from the front seat. Her aviators were perched on the end of her nose, giving her a small sliver of light to enable her to see the tips of her fingers.

"Why are they shoving?" Pidge mused.

Cat sighed, shrugging, "I stopped paying attention when they were arguing about the correct spelling of Phoenix." 

Pidge glanced down at the top of Cat's head from beneath her black panama.

"Wanna stop for burgers? Let em yell it out?"

Cat sighed in relief, "Fuck yeah."

She sat forwards in her seat, putting her head between the two bickering boys, opening her mouth wide as possible.

"WE'RE HUNGRY!"

Keith and Lance lurched in their seats, rubbing at their ears with duplicate pouts.

"Dios mio, Catalina. Fine. We'll stop at the next rest stop. Did you really need to scream at us?" Lance mumbled.

"Yeah, Cat I think I'm deaf now." Keith agreed in complaint. Cat shook her head and rolled her eyes, collapsing back against her seat, cuddled in against her girlfriend.

 _"Now_ they agree." She grumbled, feeling Pidge pat her head mournfully.

Thankfully the next rest stop was only a mile away, their car ebbing collective cheers from Cat and Pidge as Lance pulled into the lot, the girls chanting for food as they parked, the collective yell of 'Burgers' climbing louder and louder until they finally jumped out of the car, speeding off towards the large shopping complex in giggles.

Lance shook his head, chuckling as he stepped out, "I'm gonna go pay for gas, you want anything?" He asked the stationary raven in the passengers seat.

"I'm good." Keith dismissed him, breeze batting his hair in and out of his face.

"You sure? You haven't changed in almost a day. The complex has a Hot Topic if you wanna buy some clothes." Lance smirked, prompting a long, sarcastic glare from Keith.

"I don't have any money, genius." Keith said blankly.

Lance rolled his eyes, "Duh. I brought a spare pair of boxers you can borrow, and I don't mind buying you a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt for now. You can always pay me back later."

Keith blinked at him, looking mildly surprised at the offer. Lance just chuckled at him, offering him a hand.

"Come on, I can get gas before we leave."

Keith swallowed, allowing Lance to pull him from his seat and drag him towards the looming glass structure at the foot of the car park.

It wasn't much different inside than to what it was outside- light, polished and looking like it'd only been built yesterday, like a gleaming white cathedral of assholes. Left and right he was hit with an onslaught of excitable squeals and judging glares shot his way as he followed Lance past stores of pink and white.

Shopping wasn't an enjoyable experience for him. The endless flinging clothes on and off bored him to no extent, and there was something about the incandescent lighting of a dressing room that just seemed to be made to make him feel bad about himself, turning his already pale skin ghostly white, making him look like a sickly Victorian child.

Long story short, usually if it was a choice between shopping and diving into a swimming pool of cold vomit... Keith would take the vomit.

But with Lance it felt a little more lighthearted, full of laughter as Lance clipped on a countless amount of women's lingerie around his torso.

"Don't I look pretty?"

Keith snorted from behind a belt rack as Lance emerged with a pink lacy bra bunched around his shirt. It was incredibly ill fitting, looking ridiculous bunched around Lance's broad torso and hooked over his shoulders.

"Stop." He bit out, attempting to suppress another snort of laughter. Ducking beneath the leather belts.

Lance feigned a pout, poking Keith's sides, "Keiiith, come on, I'm bored."

Keith rolled his eyes, "You're the one who offered to go shopping." He reminded him, running his hand along the belt rack, listening to the buckles jingle.

Thankfully Lance hung the bra back on the rack, trailing after Keith as he weaved his way in and out of the isles nonchalantly, intentionally avoiding the t-shirts and jeans, mostly just to see how long Lance would hold out before he got bored.

Lance huffed as Keith busied himself with yet another rack of belts, eyes snagging on a large billboard of a taller woman in a transparent nightgown and lacy underwear.

Keith scowled, "Lance, focus."

Lance's gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled sheepishly as Keith rolled his eyes. Finally approaching the t-shirts, far away from the underwear section. He quickly picked the first sweater in his size he saw and the cheapest pair of grey jeans, tossing them into the basket in Lance's arms.

"You done already?" Lance cocked his brow. Keith shrugged.

"I know what I like."

They ambled over to the checkout, Lance rocking on his heels patiently as they waited. Keith cast him an occasional look upwards, shifting in place as neither of them made an effort to speak. Thankfully Lance's ringtone soon cut through the thick silence, 'La Bamba' bouncing off the surrounding walls.

"Ah, it's Cat. You alright to pay?" Lance asked, offering him a few bills. Keith nodded, the tall Cuban already walking out of earshot towards the entrance of the store. Keith bit on his lip, rubbing his arms, suddenly quite cold. He glanced around the store as he waited for the single store clerk to call him to the till.

His gaze landed back on the underwear section they'd ventured into only minutes ago, in particular, the large poster of the busty female model that had caught Lance's eye.

His mouth twitched provocatively as he mulled over the disturbing thought that suddenly popped into his head, eyes fixed on the rack of underwear beneath the billboard. He clenched and unclenched his fists, biting his lip.

He glanced towards the door, seeing Lance just round the corner, out of sight, still engaged in conversation with Cat. Looking back at the rack, he felt his feet subconsciously shifting forwards. It would be so easy...

Curiosity killed the cat... but the _satisfaction..._

Against his better judgement, and every voice in his head screaming at him not to, Keith darted out of the line, pacing over to the rack he'd set his eyes on. He gently pulled the fabric between his fingers. It was lacy, but the inside felt comfortable, lined with something cushiony, the taught, string like back making his stomach leap. It was stretchy, which would come in useful considering he _wasn't_ a woman, and it was a bright red colour- his favorite, so if that wasn't a sign...

He shook his head, there was no way he was buying this with Lance's money. But with his _own..._

He fished around in his pocket for the emergency money Shiro had given him he knew he had in there, not enough for proper clothes but _just_ enough for the flimsy fabric in his hands. Shoving it beneath his other items, out of sight, he dashed back to the cue, finding nobody else there, inwardly cheering as he ran straight to the counter.

Despite the perplexed glance the woman behind the counter gave him as he paid for the underwear, he went through without trouble, handing the money over as she passed him his clothes in a discreet paper bag. He darted towards the entrance of the store, bag heavy in his hand.

"Hey, you done?" Lance glanced up from his phone, and Keith gave him a flustered nod, unable to meet his eye. Lance cocked his brow slightly but didn't say anything else, nodding towards the bathrooms.

"You can get changed in the bathroom. Here," Lance tossed him over his rucksack, "Take some fresh underwear from there."

At the mention of the word 'underwear' Keith blushed, muttering a small thank you before disappearing into the bathrooms. Lance stared after him perplexedly.

"What a weirdo." He mused, turning back to his phone.

Keith changed swiftly, Lance's boxers proving a little big for him but easily suspended by the tight grey jeans, ripped in the knees just how he liked. Retrieving the black sweater, Keith had to pause, cause that was _definitely_ not as long as usual.

He tugged the fabric over his head, glancing in the small mirror suspended above the bathroom sink to see some of his stomach exposed, the front of the sweater cropped.

"Great, I'm officially a cross dresser now." He mumbled to himself, glancing at the back, containing his dirty clothes, and an even dirtier piece of clothing in his mind. He honestly didn't know what had compelled him to purchase the item. It definitely wasn't the way Lance was looking at the model on the poster. Definitely.

Sighing, he re-tied his boots, grabbing his bag and Lance's rucksack and emerging from the bathroom.

Lance heard him coming, looking up while Keith was a few feet away, which was lucky, cause it gave him long enough to stare before Keith noticed. His eyes were instantly fixed on Keith's toned abdomen, shown clearly by the hitched up sweater hugging his arms. He swallowed, finally looking up at Keith's face, which was dusted with pink.

"Don't. You. Dare." Keith hissed, dropping Lance's bag at his feet before he paced towards the exit, and _fuck_ if Lance wasn't in public he'd so have a boner. He gawked, opened mouthed and practically drooling as he stumbled after him.

Pidge and Cat were already in the car when Keith and Lance returned, draped over the back seat, car top down so they could lounge in the sun, littered with burger wrappers. The moment they caught sight of Keith they erupted into unattractive laughter, clutching at each other.

"Shut up." Keith deadpanned sliding into the passenger seat, arms hugging his abdomen protectively. Lance smirked at him, plopping into his own seat, rifling around in his bag.

Keith blinked as a large blue hoodie was thrust in front of his face, held by a tan hand.

"Just take it, they'll be making fun of you for the next nine hours if you don't" Lance urged, and Keith slowly curled his fingers around the fabric, shoving his arms into the sleeves and pulling it on over the hoodie.

"Thank you." He murmured, glaring at the girls in the back seat who released a chorus of 'aweees.'

"So sweet~" Cat said sweetly, hands clasped together.

They left the stop a few minutes later, after Lance had pumped the car full of gas, tires screeching as they turned onto the road. Cat eyed the back of Keith's head with a knowing smirk, leaning forwards.

"Interesting bag you got there." She murmured into his ear, watching him freeze, "I thought H&M only did plastic bags? Oh, apart from when it's something a little more... _risque."_ She trailed off with a grin, "Don't worry, Keithy, I'll keep your secret."

Keith stayed frozen in his seat for the next two hours of the ride. Suddenly he wasn't overly worried about taking down a human trafficker. He was more concerned about the terrorist in the back seat.


	9. Sweet Dreams are Made of This

It was late afternoon when they pulled into the decrepit motel Allura had booked for them. Lance was almost nodding off behind the wheel as he pulled up at the door of what was presumably their room, right at the foot of the pool shaped like a holeless number eight. Keith wrinkled his nose as he slid out of the car at the smokey smell of gasoline that hung in the dry air.

It was one of those seedy motels you'd expect men with beer guts they'd accumulated over fifteen years of marriage went to bang some other men's wives, with promises they couldn't afford to keep. 

Weeds were the main form of foliage, growing through the cracks in the concrete path, littered with empty take-out boxes. There were at least two screaming matches going on in separate rooms, and other than Lance's immaculate Blue the cars in the lot wouldn't have been out of place in a wrecker's yard.

Keith could spot Hunk's van a few cars away, hidden inconspicuously among the dead shrubbery that matched the faded brown colour. The lights in the room were on, the door left ajar so strips of yellow poured through.

Matt and Hunk were gathered around a wooden table placed in the center of the room, meant for family card games or for someone to throw a cheap hooker onto it, but instead it was strewn with blue prints of a warehouse, scribbled all over with in red marker pen.

They greeted the other four with lackluster waves as they stumbled in, Lance yawning and slumped on Keith's shoulder, the raven blushing as he held a strong grip on Lance's bicep to keep him upright, practically half dead in his arms.

"Is he okay?" Hunk cocked his brow as Keith disposed Lance into a plastic chair at the table, the Cuban hunching over the desk with a groan.

"He'll be fine," Cat rolled her eyes, "He wouldn't let anyone else drive and he barely slept last night."

"Idiot, you should have let me drive." Keith scolded him, draping a blanket over Lance's shoulders. Matt cocked his brow at Pidge and Cat, who just shook their heads exasperatedly.

"Is that Lance's jumper?" He whispered to Cat, noticing the blue fabric that fell well past Keith's knees, sleeves kissing the ends of his fingertips.

"Yup." She replied deadpan.

"When did they...?" He murmured with a suggestive smirk. She shrugged, eyes on Keith as he meticulously wrapped the blanket around Lance, making sure his arms were fully covered.

"Keith's apartment flooded so he stayed at ours last night. I think they had some sort of a break through." She replied under her breath, smirk dancing on her lips, "He accidentally walked into the kitchen without pants, you should have seen Lance's face."

Matt furrowed his brow, "Keith didn't mention anything about his apartment flooding to me or Shiro." He mused, causing Cat to frown.

"Why else would he have..." She trailed off, eyes dragging back to the boys at the table, glistening curiously.

Matt sighed, "Keith has a tendency to keep stuff from us. I guess now he's got Lance in on it."

"Whatever it takes for them to get along." Cat raised her hands in a surrendering motion, backing away towards Pidge. Matt was left with a displeased frown, arms folded as he approached the table.

"Okay, before Lance passes out we're gonna go through the plan one more time." He announced, clearing his throat to capture the attention of the room. Lance groaned unhappily, blanket over his head, resembling a patchwork nun.

"The trade is happening at midnight. That gives us six hours to prepare, and for Lance to sleep." Matt began, giving the drowsy Cuban a dry look, "Me and Cat will disarm the guards at the front so Lance and Keith can safely slip inside and intercept the trade. We'll wait on the roof for Pidge's signal, standing by in case something goes wrong. We'll then assist Keith and Lance on getting the hostages to the van." He spoke with a commanding tone, one he'd adapted well from his husband.

"I'll only be able to disable the lights for a short period of time before the back up generator is activated, so you'll need to get the hostages to the van in under a minute. Chances are Faith and Zarkon are expecting us to show up, so you guys will need to be on high alert." Pidge added from the bed, firm voice juxtaposed with the fluffy braids Cat was piling on top of her head endearingly.

"I know there's a lot of history between us. We're family, and it's our instinct to protect each other. But you _must_ put the safety of the hostages above anybody else's on the mission. Understood?" Matt cocked his brow, receiving a low grumble of acceptance from his teammates.

"So where is the meeting taking place?"

Matt's finger hovered over the blue prints, tapping down on a spot on the bottom floor.

"Faith, Zarkon and their representatives will be on the bottom floor. The warehouse is empty, so you two wont have many places to hide. You'll have to wait for the lights to go out to make a move."

"And what about Lotor?" Keith piped up, arms folded as he brooded in the corner, per usual.

"He'll be with Zarkon. He's mainly there to ensure no harm comes to you or Lance. Though it would be best if he maintained his cover for as long as possible, he wont hesitate to foil any attempts made on your lives."

Lance scoffed, "I'd rather put my life in the hands of Lord Mullet, thanks."

Keith thanked the darkness of the room for hiding the slight smile that stole past his lips.

Ignoring Lance's snide comment, Matt continued, "Me and Cat will be here," He pointed to the plan of the roof, "And Hunk will be just outside with Pidge ready for pick up. Any other questions?" He glared pointedly at Lance, whose mouth snapped shut, words fizzing out on his tongue before they even graced his lips.

"Good. Lance, go get some sleep. The rest of you have five hours to prepare before we leave."

They disbanded slowly, Pidge and Cat leaving to get something to eat from the beaten down vending machine. Keith ebbed away from the rest of the team, excusing himself outside before slipping outside the door, Cat and Pidge's giggles still distantly bouncing off the walls.

He fell against the adjacent wall to their room, letting the coolness of the brick seep into Lance's jumper. While thankful for the garment, he had no doubt Matt and Hunk had figured out who it belonged to.

The air reeked of stale perfume and the ashtrays that adorned every surface in sight. All in all, the motel was dingy, dark and cheap, elbowing it's way between a converted coffee shop and an even more decrepit block of apartments, yet ironically one of the nicer motels Keith had been to.

His eyes were shut and his back cold as he took a moment to himself, listening for the sounds of life rushing past, Cat and Pidge's muffled voices and Hunk's throaty laugh squeezing through closed doors and windows to make their way to his ears, bringing a smile to his face.

His eyes cracked open as the door besides him creaked, announcing Matt's arrival to his side.

"Hey." He smiled, falling against the wall beside's Keith. The blue reflection of the pool wavered on his face, making him look like a neon filtered picture. He fished around in his pockets, retrieving a slim brown cigarette, slotting it between his lips. Lighting it, he inhaled slowly, feeling his lungs wrapped by a warm blanket of smoke.

"I thought you told Shiro you quit?"

"Shiro isn't here," Matt gave his a mischievous, crooked smile, "Besides, it's a special occasion."

Keith huffed a laugh, head slowly tipping back and forth as he hummed a light tune Lance had been playing from the radio earlier. His eyes were barely open, pool and brick merging together to create an unsightly, brown vision.

"How are you feeling?" Matt asked, taking another drag, smoke blurring Keith's vision momentarily before evaporating, just another cloud amongst the many others in the sky.

Keith shrugged nonchalantly, "It's just another mission. Nothing I haven't done before."

Matt rolled his eyes, "It'll be one of the most dangerous jobs we've been on, Keith. Aren't you even a little scared?"

Keith swallowed, breath fogging up the crisp night air past seeing as he exhaled, reluctant to reply.

"I've got nothing to lose." He murmured, seeing Matt's lips purse.

"Oh really?" He cocked his brow with a frown, "Then who are those people in that room? You telling me you don't care about any of them?"

Keith sucked his lip into his mouth guiltily, "That's not what I meant."

"I know," Matt puffed, "But don't forget there are people that care about you when you're charging into gunfire." He put his hand on Keith's shoulder tenderly, "You're important to all of us." He added.

"We'll be fine, Matt. We always are." Keith rolled his eyes.

His companion sighed running an ashy hand through his hair. Up close, Keith could detect the few wrinkles slowly sneaking down from his brow to his cheeks, making him look older than he was and showing his stress in physicality.

"I just have a bad feeling. It's... too easy." He murmured, stabbing his smoke against the wall, tossing it into the nearby ash tray.

"Hey, you don't get out in the field much. It's alright to be a little worried." Keith assured him, nudging his shoulder, "Like you said, we're family. We'll protect each other."

Matt grinned at him from under his fringe, grabbing onto Keith's arm, encompassing him in a tight hug. Keith blinked a few times, arms limp by his sides before they slowly raised up, coming around Matt's shoulders and curling into his shirt.

"It's just a hug, Keith." Matt chuckled, pulling away from the bashful, smaller man.

"I'm just... not used to stuff like that." Keith mumbled, rubbing his arms awkwardly.

"Well, get used to it, cause you're sharing with Lance tonight."

Keith went wide eyed, reeling back as his gaze bored into Matt.

_"What?"_

Matt grinned wolfishly, “Hunk is sleeping in the van. We’ve only got one room with two queens and a couch. Pidge and Cat are on one queen and I called dibs on the couch, so you two are gonna have to share for tonight.”

Keith crossed his arms, glaring at Matt intimidatingly.

"You guys planned this." He accused with a scowl, "Did Shiro put you up to this or something?"

Matt cooed at him, patting Keith's cheek sarcastically, "Don't worry, Keithy, Lance is still pretty oblivious you have a crush on him."

“I don’t have a _crush_ on him.” Keith denied with a scowl, "We're not in kindergarten."

"Well whatever you want to call it, he doesn't know." Matt assured, "Though to everyone else it's _blindingly_ obvious, so be careful, just in case Lance's mind feels like catching on for once."

Matt's chuckles followed him long after they'd ventured back into the room, even after he and Hunk had exited the room to go through some stuff in the van. It was entirely silent, bar Lance lightly snoozing on the bed, heavy, labored breaths dancing in the air, Pidge and Cat still occupied at the vending machines.

He quietly tugged off his boots, tip-toeing towards the half occupied bed, softly crawling onto it. He teetered on the edge, keeping as much distance between them as possible as he slowly tucked himself underneath the covers, face to face with the sleeping Cuban.

He'd read hundreds of books, all describing watching someone sleep as a peaceful endeavor, all soft expressions and light, bated breaths. But honestly Keith just felt like a creep, and Lance hardly looked at peace. His brows were tightly knit together, a sure sign of restlessness, his mouth etched into a frown. Every now and then his eye would twitch, limbs flinching in fear. A nightmare, and he was running.

Glancing over his shoulder, only to check they were alone, Keith gently placed his hand on Lance's cheek, feeling the flesh tremble beneath his palm. He pressed his thumb against the wrinkled skin of his brow, brushing the pad over it delicately, repeating the motion a little firmer, again and again until the skin smoothened out, Lance's mouth going slack and breath evening out.

He heard a distant voice in his memory, a woman hushing him as he sobbed into her shirt, motherly arms stroking through his hair and smoothing his brow, the way he did Lance's now, humming melodies into his small ears.

With a thick gulp, he edged backwards, pulling the covers up to his chin, lulled to sleep by the sound of Lance's breathing. At one point or another, he tangled his leg with Lance's. Whether it was for Lance's comfort or his own, he was unsure.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

When he woke, he was warm. Not an overwhelming, over-sensitized heat that makes it hard to breathe. No, it encompassed him like a fuzzy blanket draped over his shoulders, pooling his belly with warmth. Blinking his eyes open he was met with a haze of mist, loosely focusing on the cotton clad chest cushioning his head.

It didn’t take long for him to realize the compromising position he was in, that the warmth was in fact provided by a pair of strong arms wrapped around his body, enveloping him like a tanned cocoon. His hand was delicately bunched in Lance's shirt, legs tangled together beneath the covers and head tucked beneath his chin. Lance clung to him tightly, nose buried in his hair, enveloping almost all of Keith's body. He was a clingy sleeper, just like Matt had warned him.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cat, looming over the bed, smirking smugly as the two men stirred with duel groans.

"Wake up, lovebirds, it's time."

Keith felt Lance shift beneath him, freezing as he stared down at the head on his chest and- yeah now was probably a good time to stop cuddling him.

He bolted upright, as did Lance, leaving him incredibly cold all at once.

"Hunk is waiting outside, we have an hour." Pidge informed them, shoving heaps of silver equipment into her shoulder bag. Hunk was hovering at the door, Matt tidying up the blue prints on the table, emptying the room of any trace of their presence with a few wipe downs. 

"Put your recoil vests on." Matt advised them, "You shouldn't need to fire any shots, but just in case."

Keith pointedly kept his gaze fixed on the floor, away from Lance as they shrugged off their tops, backs turned to each other respectfully as they pulled the skintight, rough fabric over their chests, donning their clothes again once they were in place. Unfortunately Keith made the mistake of turning around before Lance had finished pulling on his t-shirt, giving him a sublime view of his broad back, thin fabric of the vest pulled taught as his flesh flexed beneath it.

He swallowed before quickly turning away, striving to hide his face, peaks of his cheekbones dusted with pink like a candyfloss mountain.

"Ready to go?" He heard Lance ask from beside him, giving a curt nod before following him out of the door.

They were first in the van, settling into awkward silence on opposite benches. Keith shuffled in place, Lance's jumper feeling heavy on his shoulders, loosely draped over his shoulders and fingers. Lance was eerily quiet, wide awake and gazing out the back of the van into the night sky, dimly lit by flickering porch lights.

"Thank you..." He mumbled, causing Keith to cock his brow questionably.

"For what?"

Lance looked mildly awkward, avoiding Keith's gaze as he rubbed his palms together, attempting to trap the lost heat.

"For helping me get to sleep last night." He gazed at Keith humbly, "Best sleep I've gotten in years."

Keith blinked in poorly hidden alarm, glancing at his lap sheepishly, "I didn't realize you were awake..."

Lance shrugged, "Only for a minute, but I felt you there." He smiled genuinely, "Whatever you did worked pretty well."

Keith shrugged, swallowing, casting his gaze away. He rubbed up and down his arm self consciously, fingers twitching a little.

"I had a lot of night terrors as a kid. My mom used to do the same thing to help me sleep."

Lance blinked, head cocking. Keith glanced between him and the window, looking slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Lance's gaze, "What?"

Lance open his mouth a little in awe, "You've just... never mentioned your family before." He stated in surprise, “What’s she like, your mom?”

Keith's expression turned sour, lips thinning.

“She’s dead.” He said quietly, expression deadpan. Lance's mouth popped open and he leaned forwards a little, hand inches away from Keith knee when another body appeared at the door, and he quickly pulled it away.

"You two can make out later, we have some criminals to catch." Matt grinned, the rest of their friends piling into the van before Lance could even form an apology, plopping onto the wooden benches, Pidge ducking behind the table at the back to set up her equipment.

Lance kept his eyes glued on Keith as Hunk started the engine, the raven staring pointedly over the grate separating the back of the van and the drivers seat out of the window.

"We'll talk later." He mumbled to him, voice undetectable to the others over their own conversation and the purr of the engine beneath them. Keith's face stayed blank, devoid of emotion, to the extent Lance wondered if he'd even heard him. But moments later, he gave a contemplative nod, casting them both into silence, long after they'd pulled out of the motel.


	10. The Prettiest Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNINGS: **Violence** and **Character Injury**

The drive was a suffocating forty-five minutes, the claustrophobic contents of the van providing little comfort to the tightly wound individuals inside. They tried to occupy themselves- Matt and Pidge engaged in a game of cards on the wooden bench nearer the back, currently piled with her equipment, Cat sat in the front seat to pester Hunk in some way or another.

Keith kept his gaze firmly on the window, while Lance kept his firmly on Keith. He tried to distract himself from how insanely appealing Keith looked in his jumper, instead honing in on the almost soundless changing of the gears, the pattern of traffic lights, and the beads of rain pattering against the metal of the van like tears, running down the face of the windows.

Needless to say, he was failing.

He felt awkward and uncomfortable among the chatter surrounding him, eyes glued to the mean opposite him, sat in delicate silence. Only twenty minutes before he'd been in bed with him, practically _spooning_ him while they slept. Even after he'd woken he'd been reluctant to let go, Keith's head on his chest a welcome, unexpectedly incredible feeling. Now, here he was, pevertedly staring at him while he was unaware.

Reluctantly tearing his gaze away, he dragged his eyes over to the window Keith was so firmly focused on, his eyes catching on the stars lining the night sky like diamonds stoned on velvet, gathering in all sorts of clusters and formations, like an army of tiny fireballs.

He cleared his throat, glancing back at Keith, seizing his attention. Keith blinked over to him, brow cocked curiously.

"So..." He began, eyes darting around the van, avoiding Keith's intense, violet eyes, "Do you like the stars?"

He kicked himself at the helplessly awkward and obvious ice breaker, feeling Keith's gaze land on him tentatively.

"Um... I guess?" His voice raised at the end of the sentence in question, leaving an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Lance decided to elaborate, leaning forwards.

"My dad bought me a telescope for my fourteenth birthday," He began, desperately hoping he wasn't about to bore Keith to death, "I wasn't that into astronomy, but he was kind of like my idol, you know? So I tried it out, and man, I was _obsessed."_ He chuckled, glancing up to see an endearing smile on Keith's face, prompting a similar one to rise on his.

"Your dad sounds pretty cool." He said softly.

Lance nodded, "Yeah, he was. He was the one who motivated me. I got into a space program a few months later." He mused, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips, "I wanted to be an astronaut. A stupid childhood dream, I know." He gave a curt, disparaging laugh.

"It's not stupid." Keith assured him, his soft palm on Lance's knee taking him by surprise, "It's sweet."

Lance glanced at him tenderly, their duel smiles diffusing any awkward tension that was left over, leaving just an impermeable bubble surrounding them.

"So how did you end up..." Keith trailed off, hand leaving Lance's knee to awkwardly rub his neck.

"Here?" Lance supplied, Keith giving him a slow nod. Lance sighed, falling back against the cool metal wall behind him, back aching a little from being sat on the wooden bench for too long.

"Just before I started school, there was a fire." He swallowed, Keith eerily silent opposite him, "Cat's room was right next to mine, so I went to her first. By the time I'd gotten her out the house... it was too late." He felt his bottom lip tremble, the familiar way it did whenever he brought up the events of that night.

He sighed, "I lost my dad, my mom and my big sister. Our abeulos took me and Cat in, but we moved back to the city as soon as I turned eighteen." He glanced away shamefully, "I was a different person. I did some bad shit to help us stay afloat. If it weren't for Shiro, we'd probably be dead." He finished on a grim note, mouth contorting into a grimace.

Keith stared at him, mouth falling slightly open as he grappled for the right words to say.

"I'm so sorry." He said weakly, "About your family."

Lance gave him a ghost of a smile, "I'm sorry about your mom." He countered. Keith nodded, patting the empty seat besides him.

"Come here, show me the stars." He pressed, shuffling up on the bench so they could fit comfortably together in front of the window. Lance crossed over the channel between the two sides of the van, settling precariously next to Keith.

He scanned the sky, eyes darting across the deep ebony feathers of night, stars of all different shapes and sizes sparkling in place, blinking and flickering away momentarily before returning like rogues hiding away in the shadows, creating all kinds of blue and white streaks across the wasteland of the atmosphere. He squinted, before landing on a familiar formation ahead of them.

He raised his finger, drawing across the sky, "Well, up there is Ursa Major." He began, tracing an imaginary dot-to-dot in his mind as he connected the stars, "Also known as the big dipper. It kind of looks like a fishing net."

Keith scrunched his eyes up, following Lance's finger until he caught it, nodding excitedly, "I see it."

Lance grinned, continuing to scan the sky, a dark blanket dotted with intricate gemstones, glinting in front of him. His gaze caught on a complex arrangement, forming the figure of a man, bow perfectly poised, arrow just released.

"Okay, this one is a little harder," He said, finger raising again, "Orion. You see those three stars in a line, there?" He dragged the digit across, "That's his belt. Then the two below are his legs," He motioned to the two, bright balls of fire beneath, "And the two above make his torso. The rest are for his bow and arms."

Keith's brow was knitted together, head shaking as his eyes struggled to focus on the distant glowing stars.

"I can't see it." He frowned, unable to detect the constellation amongst the endless clusters of white.

Ever so gently, without even realizing it, Lance took hold of Keith's hand, raising it up to the sky.

"I'll take you through it," He cleared his throat, starting to drag Keith's pointer finger between the stars, joining them together.

"His belt," He connected the first three stars, "His legs," Down two, "His torso," He drew it back up, indicating a wide chest, "His arm," Right up to the brink of the window, "And his bow." He finished, connecting a large string of stars to the right of the man, forming a perfect arch.

He kept his gaze on Keith's face the whole time, watching his contorted, bemused face become a beautiful, awed expression, turning his stomach into a hive of fluttering insects. His voice became further and further hushed, until he was whispering intimately into Keith's ear, chin hovering over his shoulder and knee nudging his hip.

Suddenly aware of Lance's closely acquainted presence, Keith swallowed thickly, head turning to slowly meet Lance's gaze. Their eyes locked, his breath catching in his throat as he met the brilliant blue of Lance's eyes, gazing down at where he cradled Keith's hand in his lap.

Suddenly realizing the slight hold he still had on Keith's fingers, Lance quickly let go, letting Keith's hand slowly returning to his lap. He felt Keith spin back towards the window, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted to diffuse the bubbles rising in his chest.

"Uh, thanks." Keith coughed curtly, receiving a small nod from Lance as the taller of the two gradually made his way back to his seat across from Keith, hands shaking a little, which he blamed on the adrenaline of the mission. He shook his head, pulling on his ear, attempting to shake the image of Keith's wide, unguarded eyes burned into his brain.

As long as he could remember, a part of him had burned for Keith. It was a furious blaze, lighting his blood on fire and quickening his heart, leaving his body in short bursts of anger and provocation, fueling what he’d perceived as a deep, boiling hatred.

But now the fire that burned through his veins was something more. He had seen Keith in his quiet periods of reflection, in fits of passion when he threw himself into the cross-fire, and even in a few, rare moments of happiness that would shine through in barely there smiles that made his eyes light up like a violet tinted Christmas tree.

Even now, with his eyes focused on Keith’s blushing cheeks, defined and razor sharp, Lance could admit to himself he didn’t hate him. He never had. He'd hated the effect Keith had on him, the way he lit his heart ablaze. It had terrified him, as he considered his heart bricked up, the ones inside trapped forever, but nobody on the outside able to get in.

For the next ten minutes he was stuck in this sudden, unanticipated existential crisis, glaring down at his lap and his knee rocked in place anxiously, the sudden sound of gravel on the wheels bringing him to high alert, a quick glance out the window revealing a large, decrepit warehouse, shrouded in darkness.

"We have fifteen minutes to prepare." Matt announced, "Pidge, you ready?"

The small girl nodded, fingers tapping away at the wood of the table, letter keys glowing on top, screen blinking ahead of her, unattached to anything, just hovering there like a hologram.

"Here, take these," She passed them ear pieces, Cat, Lance, Matt and Keith all placing them into their ear without hesitation, "So I can let you know when the lights are going to go out."

They nodded, sitting back down on the end of the benches, pressed together for comfort. Cat held Lance's hand nervously, squeezing it every few seconds, paired simultaneously with a short smile his way. Lance stroked the back of her palm with his thumb, biting on his lip, chewing away at the skin.

They waited in silence in the van, poised at the door and shrouded in darkness, waiting for the flash of yellow headlights that would indicate it was time to move. Pidge was still tapping away, only the luminous screen ahead of her providing light for them all, casting them in a pale green colour.

Lance could feel Keith next to him, already half out of his seat, ready to burst through the door at a moments notice. It was suffocating, hearing him breathe next to his ear while he was halfway through a sexual crisis, every now and then meeting his gaze only to bashfully glance away again as uncouth images flooded his mind.

“Whatever happens,” Lance heard Keith whisper into his ear under his breath, the soft exhale tumbling down Lance’s neck, sending shivers down his spine to his toes. He blinked round at Keith, meeting his large indigo eyes unusually unguarded, bare, for only Lance to see.

“I’ve got your back.”

It was a soft whisper of assurance, a reminder of the pact they’d made only a week before. It felt like so long ago Lance had clasped Keith’s hand in his, shaking it as they'd sworn a makeshift oath to each other, to ensure they could focus on what was ahead of them while the other defended them from behind.

Lance grinned at him, an expression juxtaposed to the situation they were in, mischief dancing behind his eyes, and lips curved wolfishly.

“Well I’ve got yours too, mullet,” He whispered, an unprecedented surge of courage urging him to lean further in till he was besides Keith’s ear, lips brushing the shell teasingly, “But I thought you could look after yourself?"

Not even a second later Lance was pulling away from Keith’s ear, the slight thrill and excitement hitting him as he leaped from the van, the lack of footsteps behind him assuring him Keith was still frozen in shock, feet lax and refusing to shuffle even an inch.

Keith shook himself out of his stupor a second later, scowling and sprinting out across the gravel after Lance, steps light as feathers falling onto snow, undetectable by even Lance it seemed judging by the formation of his mouth into a distinct ‘o’ shape as he darted past.

He grinned as he made it first to the concealed side wall they were aiming for, ducking down beneath a window moments before Lance caught up with him, slightly out of breath.

"You're pretty quick. Was sure your hair would weigh you down." He grumbled, lowering down next to Keith, who rolled his eyes, remaining silent as they saw Cat and Matt creeping up behind the two entrance stationed guards, clad in black.

Keith and Lance stayed pressed against the wall of the warehouse as Matt and Cat inconspicuously took out the two guards, muffled groans and shouts of surprise coming from behind chemical infected cloth as it was shoved over their mouths, lolling them into unconsciousness.

They shot the two boys a thumbs up. Keith took a deep breath, tugging up his hood before darting out from behind the wall, hearing Lance behind him as they slipped into the building.

The corrugated glass above them was like a large greenhouse roof, casting the floor with shafts of moonlight that seeped into the broken tarmac. It's previous purpose was hard to guess at, only old machinery covered with dusty plastic sheets, dirty and scavenged into skeletons. Other than that, there was nothing else inside, just some chain link fence that had long been cut through. The lights were dim, just bright enough to shine individual spots onto the floor and create a grainy picture.

Lance and Keith ducked behind adjacent crumbling beams that barely held the roof up. Casting his gaze over, Lance could see Keith's chest rising and falling, heaving with anticipation. He kept his eyes glued to his cotton clad torso, syncing his breathing with Keith's.

Keith glanced over at him, meeting his eyes with a look that was a mix of excitement and terror. Lance gave him a soothing smile, receiving a wavering one back.

That's when there was a creak from the opposite end of the warehouse. Keith froze in place, a single glance to his face indicating he was staring around the beam towards the the back doors, six figures emerging, facing each other in silence.

Lance immediately caught sight of Lotor, glancing around, searching for him. His eyes locked with Lance's, bright blue and shining through the darkness like a cat's, giving him a discreet nod before turning his attention to the individuals around him.

Lance had seen pictures of Faith and Zarkon, but this was the first time he'd seen them in person, and not through a lens. Zarkon had a significantly larger stature than Faith, who was short and wore a tight expression, possibly because of how far pulled back her hair seemed, piled on her head, depicting a criminal ballerina.

Zarkon was a larger, broader version of Lotor just with much darker hair, Lotor's natural colour, Lance had observed, when he'd gone too long without dying it the usual pale chrome colour. He skin was a shade darker than Lance's and his wide birth sustained an air of authority and fear, judging by the stoic, nervous expression on Faith's face.

"Miss Black." Zarkon started first, booming voice projecting around the room, "I trust your associates are more virtuous than the last."

Faith cleared her throat, taking a step forwards, hands firmly clenched by her sides.

"I assure you, any possibly infiltrators have been exterminated." She replied, "I brought the cargo, as you asked."

She gestured behind her, a young man stepping forwards, hauling three women with him, gagged and bound by their wrists. Their whimpers echoed all the way down to the two men the other side of the warehouse, Lance swallowing thickly as their sickening cries reach his ears. 

Glancing round he perceived their appearance. The shortest of the three he recognized, having glanced at her picture more than enough times to identify her as Danielle Abbot, eyes glistening with tears and black hair strewn all over the place. Her skin was dark, probably what made her so favorable to buyers, while the other two were fairer, one with platinum blonde locks and the other's a plain, mundane brown.

Above him he caught sight of two ebony-clad shadows through the glass dome ceiling, masked and nodding at him. He nodded back, clasping his eyes shut for a moment in concentration, attempting the steady the rapid thrum of his heart.

"You told me you already have a buyer set up out of continent?" Faith inquired. Zarkon stared down at her, arms folded.

"Yes. We'll split the revenue as agreed." He nodded.

"How much is he offering?" Faith asked, paying no attention to the muffled pleads coming from the women next to her.

"13,000 for the younger one, 10,000 for the other two." Zarkon replied.

While the two thugs negotiated, Keith and Lance began darting between the columns and steel poles, slowly making their way closer and closer to the three, quivering woman and their intimidating possessors.

"What is the name of your buyer, if you don't mind me asking?"

Zarkon sneered, tensions in the room rising as he looked down at Faith, "Considering you allowed our last operation be compromised by The Lions, my buyer has requested to remain anonymous."

There was a sudden crackle in Lance and Keith's ear, Pidge's voice filtering through along with some painful static.

 _"Okay guys, get ready to move."_ She spoke, faint tapping happening in the background.

Meanwhile Faith reeled back with a scowl, "I told you, that was a fluke. I would like to know who I'm selling my goods to, Zarkon." She growled.

Lance and Keith reached into their pockets, pulling out the contact cases Matt had given to them before they'd left, inserting the night vision lenses into their eyes.

_"In three."_

Lance glanced towards Keith, finding his gaze already fixed on his face.

_"Two."_

He gave him a firm, final nod, itching to reach out and touch him, to soothe the trembling of his chest.

_"One."_

The lights went out. Everything that happened next seemed to play in fast forward.

Keith and Lance made their move first, sprinting out from behind the columns, vision tinted slightly green as their contacts helped them see their way through the dark towards the bodies shuffling around haplessly, shouts of confusion rining out around them. Zarkon, Faith and their associates were armed, waving their guns around as they tried to pinpoint Lance and Keith's footsteps.

They watched as Lotor disarmed Zarkon's guards, giving Lance and Keith time to grab the three, bewildered and tear stained figures trembling besides Faith, the woman to focused on the struggle opposite her to notice.

 _“You guys have fourty-five seconds left, get the hostages out_ now.” _They heard Pidge shout urgently in their ear._

They quickly released the women from their bonds, yanking down their gags and slicing away the rope around their wrists with swift blade movements. There was a screech of tires in the distance and a flash of headlights as Hunk pulled the van up outside, and a loud thump as Matt and Cat landed off the roof ready to escort the hostages into the wheeled, metal structure.

They grabbed the hands of the hostages, Lance taking the hand of Danielle, while Keith went for the other two, holding tightly as they dragged them towards the exit, the three women too disconcerted to object. Keith kept a firm grip on the hands of the two girls, squeezing them reassuringly just in case they came to their senses and panicked.

"Almost there!" He heard Lance yell in front of him, the bright lights from the van like a beacon ahead of them. Adrenaline pulsed through him, nervous system lit up like Christmas tree lights wound round his skin, his heart hammering and diverting blood to his muscles and away from his gut, which has fallen to his toes. Bullets were hailing against the walls as the group behind them blindly shot towards their voices.

They were close - _so close_ \- when a sickening 'crack' sounded from behind him, and his grip slipped from the hand of the brunette who'd previously been holding on the tightest, her body falling into a crumpled heap in the floor as she whimpered. One glance behind him indicated her ankle had been injured, her hand rubbing the swollen flesh in pain.

He swore under his breath, legs spurring him forwards, reaching the entrance seconds later and pushing the other girl towards the van.

 _"Go!"_ He yelled at her, "Get in!"

Matt and Cat grabbed her shoulders ushering her inside the vehicle. Lance ran to his side, eyes glinting with panic as he noticed Keith's other hand empty, the other girl nowhere in sight.

"Where is she!" He threw his arms out, "Where's the other one?!"

Keith was shaking, "She's still in there, she's injured!" He exclaimed, spinning around, ready to sprint back inside to get her.

“Keith you only have fifteen seconds you can’t-!“

Ignoring Pidge's desperate cries from the van door, he sprinted back inside the pitch-black building, eyes fixed on the trembling figure on the floor ahead of him. He reached her side in seconds, pulse spurring his feet faster then they'd ever gone, arms coming round her shoulders to lift her from the floor. She cried out in pain as he attempted to carry her out, her injured foot dragging across the floor behind her.

He kept an arm firmly around her waist, carrying the bulk of her weight as she limped as fast as she could behind him. He whispered encouragement in her ear.

"It's okay, you're safe, just a little further-"

Then it was sensory overload, the lights coming back on with a large thud of a lever, and his stomach filled with dread.

 _"SHIT!”_ He yelled as the gun shots began ringing out around him, clanging against the beams and the empty shells clattering to the floor like a shower of steel. Heart pounding in his chest, he instinctively hunched over the girl, crowding her against the floor as she cried, bullets flying past them.

He hears a struggle behind him, a muffled cry of, "What are you doing?!" booming across the floor towards him, a weak glance over his shoulder revealing Lotor and Zarkon struggling for the pistol in Zarkon's hand.

"KEITH, RUN!" He heard Lotor yell, prompting him to jump to his feet, arms coming round the girl's shoulder and shielding her head as he darted between the beams.

The entrance was only a few feet from him, great and looming like the door of a cathedral, glowing white from headlights and gun smoke.

But almost in slow motion, he saw a flash of brunette hair by a nearby post, hidden behind the threatening barrel of a silver pistol, aimed straight towards the girl in front of him. His arms flew out, mouth opening in a silent scream of warning as he shoved her behind him.

_"KEITH DUC-"_

**BANG**

He knew he was screaming, a painful, wretched noise that tore from his throat and made his ears ring, but he couldn't even register releasing it. Pain blossomed across his abdomen as he fell to the floor, dizzy and bleeding and barely able to see a few feet ahead of him.

He pulled the girl down with him, curling around her body to shield her from further gunfire, hearing screaming behind him as a struggle unfolded, muffled by the blood rushing through his ears, a weak glance over his shoulder revealing Lotor sprinting towards him, Zarkon on the floor, his spotty vision perceiving him as a large, dark blob.

"Keith, Keith! Listen to me I need you to keep your eyes open!" Lotor said frantically in his ear. Keith blinked slowly, pulling his arms away from the girl, and rolling over, grabbing the cuff of Lotor's shirt.

"R-Run." He whispered as Lotor took the girl from his loose hold, sweeping her into his arms.

"Keith I can't-"

 _"Run!"_ He exclaimed, "Take her then come back for me if you can, but get her to safety first!"

Lotor wasted no time to sprint towards the van, squeezing Keith's shoulder comfortingly as he darted away. Keith's heartbeat slowly started decreasing in speed, every sound hypersensitive to his ears, making him wince every time a new bullet was released. He sighed, letting his eyes fall shut as his head fell against the concrete, legs frozen in place and stomach screaming in pain.

Only seconds before his vision cut out, ahead of him he saw a tall figure sprinting towards him, hand outstretched and grasping at the air in front of him. Lance was yelling, screaming his name, though he was barely able to perceive it. It was like being under water, submerged and unable to breath, anything that tried to break the surface of the aqua distorted and muffled.

The next time he blinked his eyes opened and Lance was besides him, cupping his cheeks and mumbling something to him. Keith hummed as his hand combed through his hair, the other coming round his back to lift him into a sitting position. He groaned, Lance kneeling in front of him, keeping a strong grip on his uninjured side.

Keith's weak vision captured the sight of a slim, black device in Lance's hand. Keith's eyes went wide as can be when Lance's thumb stabbed down on the bright red button on top, looking like a clown nose to Keith's poor sight. He flung the apparatus towards the other end of the room, and it clattered onto the floor between Faith and Zarkon.

Keith knew what was going to happen next, so it was no surprise when Lance's hands clapped over his ears, pressing their foreheads together as a ferocious explosion sounded around them, absent of any fire or debris, only a furious, painful sound.

He saw Lance wince in front of him, ears unsheltered and unguarded from the extreme bomb clap simulation, a single, drawn out ringing in his ears sounding like the incessant bleep when someone flat lines, as he opened his eyes and uncovered Keith's ears.

Then, Keith was warm, so familiarly warm, cradled against Lance's chest as he was carried from the premises. He wheezed into Lance's shirt, the pain of the wound suddenly all too apparent and sending him dizzy, only the clarity of Lance's heartbeat there to keep him awake.

"It's alright, Keith." He heard Lance whisper, the sound making his chest rumble like a dormant volcano. He faintly heard himself call out to Lance, telling him to leave him, to turn back and not look behind him.

The last thing he heard before everything went black was Lance, fondly whispering into his ear.

“Idiot, didn't I tell you?" The hand around Keith's shoulder caressed the skin there gently.

"I’ve got your back.”


	11. When Doves Cry

Lance almost tripped over his own feet three times before he finally got Keith into the van, his ashen complexion and lifeless expression scaring him every time he glanced at his face. All he could do with Keith in this position was cling to his legs and shoulders and kiss his head, which barely seemed like much but at least he could feel Keith's panting slowing down into even breaths. Or maybe he wasn't breathing at all. Jesus, Lance had never had to help a dying person before.

He leaped off the ground into the van, bullets ricocheting off the sides as Matt slammed the back doors shut. As soon as they were secure Hunk pulled away, speeding out of the lot and down the highway, the sound of metal on metal ceasing as they escaped. Lance cradled Keith against his chest, urgent and yelling for help.

"They got him in the side." He hurriedly explained as Matt and Pidge flocked to him, helping him shift Keith onto one of the wooden benches, laid out on his back. Cat was in the corner of the van, soothing the shaking victims and draping them with blankets they'd stolen from the motel.

Lotor was wearing a grave expression, hovering nearby as they settled Keith into place, Pidge whispering to him softly as he moaned in pain. 

Tearing his eyes away from Keith's writhing body, Lance spun around furiously, snarling like a guard dog as Lotor approached Keith. He charged forwards, grabbing Lotor by his collar and slamming him against the side of the van, making the whole vehicle rock.

"What the _fuck_ was that!?" He shouted angrily, an expression of solemn acceptance settling onto Lotor's face as Lance's hands dug into his skin.

"I'm sorry, Lance." He said somberly, honestly, "I didn't mean for-"

"You were meant to keep him safe." Lance snapped, "You were supposed to stop something like this happening. And you just _left_ him there." He gestured to Keith's panting frame, his blood staining the wood red.

"He told me to take the hostage to safety. Lance you have to understand he _wouldn't let me-"_

"You should have _been there_ to stop him getting shot in the first place. Now he might die and that's on _you."_

Pidge spun around, eyes blazing angrily, "Lance would you leave this for later, when Keith _isn't_ bleeding out?" She snarled, prompting Lance to slowly let Lotor down, still toe to toe with him.

"I have medical training, I can help-"

"You've done enough." Lance insisted, "You think I'm going to let you near him after what you just did? You're probably still working for your father. You _let_ him get shot." He accused in a rumbling, intimidating tone.

"I was in medical school for three years before my father pulled me out to train me into a thug after The Galra went rogue." Lotor look at him pleadingly, “I’ve compromised my position in The Galra. I have no reason to lie to you. Please, just let me help him.”

Lance squared him up, staring deep into his eyes, searching for any sign of a lie. A gentle hand landed on his arm, a quick glance in the corner of his eye at some curly brown hair indicating it was his sister, a calm expression on her face.

"Let him, Lance. Keith's going to die if you don't." She said coolly, and finally Lance sighed, stepping backwards to give Lotor room to breathe. He gave him a reluctant nod, casting his gaze back to the body on the bench.

"Thank you." Lotor said genuinely, rolling up his sleeves as he kneeled down near the bottom end of the bench.

Lance returned to Keith's side, settling next to his face as a heart-wrenching whine left Keith's lips, his blurry, contorted vision settling on Lance's face.

"Hey, mullet." Lance whispered softly, smoothing down Keith's hair, "We're gonna fix you up, okay?"

Keith was clearly only half awake, not a twitch coming from his fingers as Lotor tore the rest of Lance's jumper off his body, the ruined blue fabric stained with red. Lance swallowed as he focused in on the gushing wound, forced to look away by his churning stomach.

"Hunk have you got a medical kit up there?" Lotor called towards the driver seat. He took the green box as it was passed to him through the grate separating the front and back of the van, opening it and placing it at his side. He pulled out a few sanitary wipes, cleaning down his hands and some tweezers.

"The bullet's still in there. If I don't remove it now some of the metal fragments may break away and infect it, but without any painkillers or anaesthetic..." Lotor trailed off, glancing up at Keith's sweating face, meeting his furious violet eyes as he glared down at him.

“Just get it out.” Keith grilled through gritted teeth. Lotor gave Lance a hesitant, questionable glance, silently asking for his permission. Lance stared down at Keith's warped face, lips bitten and eyes red rimmed, swallowing before nodding at Lotor, the tall, dark skinned man taking a deep breath.

He pulled some tweezers from the first aid kit, calling over to Matt, "Can I borrow your lighter?"

Lance kept his eyes focused on the flame as Lotor sterilized the pincers of the tweezers, waiting until the metal began glowing red before tossing the lighter aside, hand steady as he poised the tweezers at the large opening of the wound.

"Here," He used his free hand to pass a bit of Lance's ruined jumper over to him, "Something for him to bite down on."

Lance nodded with a gulp, gently stuffing the fabric into Keith's mouth. Keith's eyes cracked open a little, tears brimming in them, threatening to spill over, his pupils filled with thinly veiled fear. Lance breathed out slightly, kissing his forehead and taking his hand.

"Squeeze as tight as you need." He whispered, waiting for Keith to finally exhale before giving Lotor a thumbs up from behind Keith's head.

The metal of the tweezers seared Keith's insides like a branding iron as they delved into the wound in his abdomen. Keith screamed hoarsely through the fabric, unable to hold in his tears any longer as they stole past his eyelids, staining his face wetly. Lance held him down, preventing him curling into the fetal position as his legs flailed and the strange, burning sensation poked around inside of him.

Lance cradled his face, soothing him softly as Lotor finally located the small, steel bullet.

"Stay with me, Keith, you're doing so well." He comforted him, Keith's grip on his hand turning the skin white and almost cutting off his pulse. Keith winced as Lotor slowly pulled the bullet out, the unclogging meaning even more blood loss, the dripping noise as it splattered onto the floor of Hunk's van making him squirm.

"It's out. I'm going to dress it now." Lotor said tranquilly, rubbing down his hands with more wipes before seizing a bottle of antiseptic. Keith eyed the bottle fearfully, eyes drooping tiredly.

Lance knew he had to keep him awake, the thought of Keith's eyes closing and not opening again sending a pang of dread through his heart. So he cleared his throat, drawing Keith's attention away from the sting as Lotor began dabbing a bit of antiseptic-doused gauze around the wound.

"Hey, Keith," He began, "Remember earlier, when we were looking at the stars?"

Keith nodded at him weakly, eyes open and clouded with confusion. Lance smiled, tightening his grip around Keith's hand, talking in the softest tone he could, "Well I know this cool observatory downtown. They do shows for pretty cheap- I can take you there sometime?"

Keith was wholly aware Lance was trying to distract him, to stop him passing out in his arms or bleeding out over the bench. But it was easy to be lulled into a painless, dreamy trance by Lance's soft voice, whispering fantasies and his future into his ear.

He shook his head against Lance's chest, glancing up at him weakly, mouth lolling open so the blue fabric fell out, "I like it more when you explain it."

Lance chuckled, "I promise it's equally as cool when David Attenborough does it." He assured, "If you try hard enough you can pretend it's god."

Keith laughed along with him, a sudden, sharp sting making him wince halfway through, eyes drooping as his vision became spotty. Lance quickly began talking again, jostling Keith a little to keep him awake.

"And after, we can stop by Coran's for some ice cream? You can get one of those waffles the size of your face." He rambled on, a soft smile taking over Keith's face as he nuzzled further into Lance's chest, swallowing as the sting slowly died down.

"Okay it's all clean. Anybody got a needle and thread?"

"I have a sewing kit in the dash." Hunk called out. Matt rifled through the compartment, tossing the small clear box through to the back into Lotor's hands. Lotor retrieved a needle and thick thread, holding the needle up towards the ceiling.

"It's almost over, Keith." Lance assured him as Lotor grabbed Matt's lighter to sterilize the metal. He pierced Keith's skin quickly, whimpers and whines leaving the exhausted man sprawled out on the bench. A few more consoling words from Lance had him calming down again, the prick of the pin surprisingly bearable compared to the churning of his insides.

Finally it was over, and Keith was left panting on the bench, dizzy and unfocused, head cloying as it attempted to process the duel burning and stinging sensation in his stomach, while Lance and Lotor's clothes were irreversably stained with blood, the two of them panting in relief. Cat slowly approached them, lifting Lance's chin.

"You did well, hermano." She patted his shoulder, "Take a break, I'll clean up."

Cat picked up the packet of sanitary wipes, gently pressing and swiping around Keith's wound with the moist tissue. Lance stayed besides him, sat adjacent to the bench and resting the back of his head against the bench near Keith's temple, turning to stroke through his hair and caress his hands every time he began panting.

"We need to get him to a hospital. Just in case it gets infected." He announced after a particularly painful looking spell, causing Keith to whine in protest.

"Lance if we take him to a hospital we'll have to explain how he got shot in the first place, and what we did wasn't exactly legal." Matt countered, "Lets get him home, and I'm sure Shiro can figure something out."

Lance frowned, "It will take half the day get home, it could already be infected by then!"

"Lance..." Keith breathed, "Matt's right. I'll be okay."

Lance sucked on his teeth, glowering down at the floor. Keith raised his hand, reaching round to blindly reach for Lance's cheek, accidentally slapping him in the face.

"Stop worrying." He mumbled, finally finding Lance's hair and tugging on it playfully, "It's fine."

"It's not fine, you almost died." Lance grumbled, tipping his head round to meet Keith's gaze.

Keith rolled his eyes, "I know we've been arguing the entire time we've known each other, but please don't fight me on this. I won't risk the safety of everyone else." He said firmly, smirking when Lance finally gave him a reluctant nod.

"Fine- as long as you promise to go if it gets any worse."

Keith nodded, settling his head against the bench, wincing as the splintered wood rubbed roughly against his scalp. Lance sighed, tugging off his hoodie so he was exposed to the cold air in the van to tuck it under Keith's head.

"Thanks." Keith murmured through his labored breaths, casting the two into silence for the rest of the drive back to the motel, Lance's hand every now and then ghosting over Keith's face to check his temperature, only to be batted away by Keith scornfully.

They pulled up besides Lance's car, Lance himself coming to his feet with a sigh as he, Pidge and Cat piled out of the van. He fished the keys from his pocket, grappling slightly as Cat snatched them from his hold.

"No chance, brother. You're driving back in the van with Keith. I'll drive Katie home in Blue." She said adamantly, folding her hands strictly.

"Catalina it's fine, I really don't-" He began to protest, cut of by her fingers sealing in a quieting motion.

"You're obviously worried about him." She said under her breath, motioning to Keith, "We'll be fine, hermano. Stay with Keith, he needs you."

Lance sighed, pulling her in for a hug, looking over her shoulder to Pidge.

"Oi, Pidget!" He called out to her, capturing her disgruntled attention, "I'll let you drive just this once, just so she doesn't pass out behind the wheel." He nodded down at his sister, Pidge giving him a thumbs up.

Cat and Pidge waved to them as they pulled out of the motel, Lance slamming the doors shut moments later so Hunk could do the same, the engine purring to life once again.

Matt and Hunk were in the front of the van, their soft chatter the only noise to be heard as they made their way back to San Francisco. Lotor had his headphones in on the bench opposite Keith, so Lance opted for the cold floor besides his barely alive friend.

His own brain did a double take as the word 'friend' flashed past, as easy as butter melting in a hot pan. He hadn't even realized he'd thought it, until it settled in and he found it wasn't as unpleasant a concept as he once would have thought. He glanced down at the boy sleeping on the bench, shivering as the cold night air bit at his skin like ebony piranhas.

He leaned down, sitting on the small, exposed part of the bench and ghosting his palm over Keith's face before gently taking hold of his cheek, biting his lip at the unsettling, fearful look on Keith's face. A nightmare.

Remembering the words Keith had mumbled to him only hours previously, Lance slowly brushed his thumb over Keith's forehead and brow, again and again and again until he relaxed, muscles in his face unwinding the way Lance's had when Keith had done the exact same motion earlier in the night.

"Lance..." Keith's eyes cracked open and he stared up at him, "Are we home yet?"

Lance chuckled, patting Keith's knee and rubbing at the skin there, hearing Keith hum, "We've only been driving for six minutes." He said under his breath, grinning as Keith groaned under his breath.

"God I need alcohol." He grumbled, eyes squinting as the moon shafted through the window for a brief second.

"You've just been _shot."_ Lance chuckled, Keith wincing through his laughs as they shot pain up his back.

"Don't remind me.” He whimpered, prompting a fond grin from Lance.

"You're strong." Lance assured him, "You'll be alright soon."

Keith hummed weakly, patting around for Lance's hand. Lance took his softly, rubbing across his skin soothingly with his thumb.

"When did _you_ start liking me?" He mumbled sarcastically as Lance fiddled with his fingers.

Lance shrugged, "About half an hour ago when you jumped in front of a bullet." He murmured, feeling Keith's hand ceasing all movement in his own. Keith blinked at him, swallowing.

"I was scared, Keith. I..." He huffed, trailing off, "I don't know why, but it fucking terrified me, thinking of you not being around anymore."

Keith's brows slanted guiltily and he squeezed Lance's fingers, "I didn't realize." He bit his lip, "I just... acted, I guess."

Lance shook his head guiltily, "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I promised you I'd watch out for you but I-"

Keith shushed him, pressing his thumb to Lance's lips, brushing it over the flesh tenderly, "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't _anyone’s_ fault."

"Yeah, well, it shouldn't have happened. I should have _seen_ it." Lance admitted, "But you're right. And that bastard owes me a new sweater." He glanced at the pile of bloody blue fabric in the corner, prompting a snort of laughter from Keith.

"He owes me a new spleen." Keith mumbled, Lance breaking out into laughter again.

"God I wish I hadn't spent so much time hating you. You're not so bad." Lance smiled, "Though to be fair, you did ditch work a lot." He said pointedly.

Keith swallowed, nodding, "I get why you hated me so much, but I wasn't ditching for fun." He reasoned.

Lance hummed, "I figured that, but it was kind of fun pissing you off so I didn't really care." He grinned, earning a scowl, "But, I'm listening now, if you wanna talk about it." It was more of a request than permission, but Keith elaborated anyway.

"I was looking for my dad." He coughed, all chuckles gone the moment he said it, "He left the country when I was thirteen, as well as a shit ton of debt with my mom. It's part of the reason she got so sick."

Lance looked down at Keith's hand gravely, squeezing it, "Dios, I'm so sorry." He said quietly, "I feel like such a dick now." He cursed.

Keith shrugged, "Well, on the last trip I found out he died, two years ago, so there goes any hope of getting back at him."

"I'm sorry." Lance whispered.

Keith shook his head, "Don't be. He was a bastard- and I never blamed you. You didn't know, and I understood why you were so angry."

Lance didn't know how to respond. He couldn't have gone with the usual 'you could have talked to me' because knowing himself, and how he'd felt towards Keith, he wouldn't have given him five minutes before cutting him off, deeming anything he had to say stupid and irrelevant. Lance looked back on his lackluster attitude mournfully.

Keith yawned suddenly, slapping a hand over his mouth as his head rocked on the makeshift pillow. Lance reluctantly let go of his hand, ruffling his hair.

"Get some sleep. I'll wake you when we get home." He promised him, prompting Keith to close his eyes, shifting over slightly as he drifted off.

"You better take me to that astronomy place once I can walk." He mumbled finally as he fell asleep, breath evening out, unlaboured and fluent. Lance settled at the end of the bench at Keith's feet, keeping his eyes on Keith's figure, shivering in place.

He glanced around for a blanket, or something of the sort, suddenly interrupted by a beige blanket being thrust in his face, a bony, malnourished hand with chipped nails clinging onto it, belonging to one of the three women he'd somehow forgotten were cowering in the corner.

He raised his head slightly, finding watery brown eyes gazing down at him, their owner biting her lip shyly.

"Use this." She urged him, shaking the blanket in front of him a little, "It's partly my fault he got shot anyway."

Lance took the blanket gratefully, draping it over Keith's body, helping to cease his shaking, "Thank you, but it wasn't your fault." He shook his head as he smoothed Keith's hair down one last time.

She audibly gulped, rubbing at her elbow, "B-But if I hadn't fallen-"

"Stop it." He interrupted, glancing up at her, "It's nobody's fault but the guy who did it. Keith knew the risks when he went in there, and he did his job saving your life. Don't apologize, just make sure to thank him when he wakes up."

Her lip wavered as she nodded, wiping her tears with her sleeve, "Thank you. You were brave, to save us." She elaborated.

He lifted one shoulder in a pathetic shrug, "It's our job- though you know you can't tell the police you saw us, right?"

She nodded, "The pretty girl told us."

Lance chuckled at her, "Don't tell her you think she's pretty, it'll get to her _cabeza grande."_ He drawled.

Despite clearly not knowing a word of Spanish, the girl grinned, nodding in agreement as Lance smiled gently down at Keith.

"But really, don't feel guilty for him getting hurt. He's been asking for it for a while." He added, "Maybe this will teach him to not be such a danger seeking idiot."

The girl smiled at the pair of them, hugging her torso as she asked, "How long have you two been together?"

Lance flung his head up in surprise, waving his hand dismissively as he blushed, "No, no, we're not together. We're just..." He trailed off, glancing down at Keith for a brief second, "...friends."

"Really?" She didn't quite seem to believe him, her brow furrowed skeptically.

Lance rolled his eyes, "Believe me, he's much more annoying when he's awake." He said with a grin, "We used to hate each other."

Her lips upturned slightly, she glanced at him in disbelief, "He doesn't know you like him, does he?"

Lance tugged at his hair, looking at her exasperatedly, glancing at Keith quick to make sure he hadn't woken.

"I told you, it's not-"

"You said you used to hate him, but you don't anymore." She perceived, perching on the other side of the bench, nearer Keith's head, "Which means you like him. _Like him,_ like him." She grinned.

Lance rolled his eyes, "Keith annoys the hell out of me. There's a difference between liking someone and not wanting them to die, niñita."

She frowned at him, folding her arms, "Maybe, but that doesn't change that fact you have feelings for him." She countered. _'Touché'_ Lance thought, scratching his chin in thought.

"You should tell him." She urged, earning a scowl.

"Look, kiddo, I'm not in love with Keith." He insisted.

"When did I say anything about love?" She said with a wolfish grin. Random Stranger: 2, Lance: 0.

He huffed, hearing her sigh provocatively.

"I know I don't know you, but to me it’s clear you care about him. You should tell him that, or you'll regret missing your chance if you don't." She stood again, beginning to shuffle back over to the other girls who were cradled together at the back, pausing for a second and spinning around.

"And I'm pretty sure he likes you too." She grinned as Lance's expression went slack, "Judging by the way he looks at you, he's _definitely_ the kind of guy who feels things."

The whole way back to San Francisco, Lance contemplated her words- all 11 hours and 45 minutes. He knew he was still denying it outwardly, too afraid to say the words out loud, but inside, he knew this stranger had just gotten it right on the nose. His feelings for Keith had blossomed, and it was so blindingly obvious even a random girl he'd met five minutes ago could see it. Whether she was just insanely observant, or right about Keith's feelings for him was another matter, but concerning _his_ for Keith...

Well, like they say, there's a fine line between love and hate.


	12. Take my Breath Away

The days trickled by, Autumn rolling along to steal all the green from the trees, bringing the wind along as it's accomplice. It crispened the air, resulting in Blue's roof rolling up for the season, much to Lance's disdain.

It'd been two weeks since Keith was shot, and Lance had carried him over the threshold into Shiro and Matt's home. Shiro had fussed over him for hours, a friend of his from the hospital agreeing to see Keith privately to professionally treat his injury, no questions asked. Soon enough Keith was given some new, cleaner stitches and painkillers, as well as some crutches he'd glared at disdainfully as they were presented to him.

Lance had made Shiro promise to call him once Keith was up and about, but after two weeks of silence he was getting antsy, pacing his apartment and giving bi-minutely glance's to his phone. Right now he was in the kitchen, knee kicking repetitively against the wood holding the island up as he glared at his mobile, biting on his thumb anxiously.

He'd been to Altea four times that week alone, grilling Allura for details on Keith's condition, but it seemed neither Shiro or Matt had been by the bar either, busy babysitting both Grace and their new roommate. He wasn't even allowed to continue with the mission, not until Keith was back in action, which could be _weeks._

So here he was, resigned to the confines of his apartment for the foreseeable future, slaving over his phone for a guy he wasn't even sure he liked. Yeah, he was pretty pathetic.

Cat tumbled into the kitchen with her arms full of brown grocery bags, rolling her eyes as she caught sight of Lance at the kitchen island, staring at his phone.

"Dios _mio,_ would you just call your boyfriend already?" She drawled exasperatedly, packing milk and condiments into the fridge. 

Lance scowled at her, “He’s _not_ my boyfriend.”

His sister sighed at him for the eighth consecutive time that day, poking her head over the door of the fridge to glare at him with a deadpan expression.

"Hermano." She drew out the vowels patronizingly, "You're not eating, you're not sleeping, and the last time I saw you take a shower was when Katie came round. And that was _three days ago."_

"I'm just sick of being stuck in this apartment!" He argued, "I want Keith to get better so we can finish the job, not because I have _feelings_ for him."

Cat kicked the fridge shut, stuffing the empty brown bags into the overflowing cupboard under the sink, "You can convince yourself all you want, Lance, but you can't fool us." She gave him a plain look.

"Wait who's _us?"_ He interrogated her with a frown, "Does _everyone_ think I have a crush on Keith?"

"Oh, no." She waved her hand, _"Most_ people think you have a crush on _each other."_

Lance brought his hands down on his eyes with a loud slapping sound.

"I can't believe this. How long have you guys been conspiring this?" He groaned, hearing his sister chuckle.

"Pretty much the entire time you've know each other. About ninety percent of us have bets on it."

Lance huffed, glaring at his sister from between his fingers, "I _don't_ have a crush on Keith."

"Okay, I give up." She threw her hands up, "I'm gonna remind you of this at you and Keith's wedding."

Lance scowled, mouth open and poised to argue until the familiar voice of Sir Mix-a-Lot filtering through his phone and cutting through their apartment, Shiro's set ring tone. Lance's eyes popped and he sprinted over to the counter to answer, hearing his sister chuckle behind him. He glared at her before answering, Shiro's contact name flashing on the screen.

"Hey, Shiro, what's up?" He asked casually, despite being a little out of breath from the short run from one side of the kitchen to the other.

 _"Hi, Lance."_ A soft voice filtered through, slightly strained and not gravelly enough to be Shiro's. A grin braced his lips.

"Keith." He breathed in relief, "How are you?" He asked softly, avoiding Cat's smug gaze, shooting her an impolite hand gesture.

_"I'm..."_ Keith trailed off, some faint muffling seeping through the transmitter, _"Can you come over?"_ He dodged Lance's question, making the Cuban cock his brow. 

"Uh, yeah sure. Are you alright?" He said, concern lacing his voice, hearing Keith release a puff of air through his nose.

 _"Just come quick."_ Keith huffed before hanging up, Lance rolling his eyes as he tucked his phone into his pocket, pacing across the kitchen to retrieve his jacket, shrugging it on. Cat eyed him curiously.

"Booty call?" She grinned, smugly sipping at the mug of coffee that had miraculously appeared in her hand.

Lance frowned at her, "No." He poked his tongue out, "But he does need my help so I'll be home later."

She waved her hand dismissively, "Yeah, yeah, don't push him too hard, okay? He’s still in recovery." She snickered.

"I hate you!" Lance shouted out dryly over his shoulder as he slammed the apartment door shut, brushing his fingers over the framed photo of his parents and sister as he passed. 

He hopped into his car, hands and feet automatically driving him towards the rural suburbia in the outskirts of the city, multi story offices morphing into quaint houses with fenced in green lawns. Matt and Shiro's house blended in perfectly, white wood panels and Grace's toys out front.

Both Shiro and Matt's cars were absent from the drive, giving Lance room to pull in and hop out, glancing up at the house for any sign of a problem. It was eerily quiet as he approached the front door, Grace's usual squeals of joy significantly lacking. He dug around in the inconspicuous leafy plant next to the door, fishing out the spare key Shiro always left there and entering the house.

"Keith? You home?" He called out, hearing a muffled yell echo down the stairs in reply. He darted upwards towards the sound, past all Grace's paintings and family photographs proudly hung on the wall.

He entered the bedroom first, black bed sheets empty of any other body. He glanced around at the dark furniture and strewn about clothing for a flash of dark hair, finding the room empty of anyone but him. 

"Keith?" He shouted again, feeling himself begin to panic a little. There was a squeak of flesh on wet tile from the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom, bringing his attention to the closed, white door.

"In here." He heard a weak voice from the bathroom, speeding over to jiggle the knob, finding it locked.

"Are you okay?" He called through the door, hearing a pained groan in return.

"I'm alright." Keith answered, "Just get in here."

Lance rolled his eyes, "Some of us can't pick locks, mullet."

"Just use a coin and turn it." Keith answered, clearly exasperated even without the visual aspect. Lance pulled a quarter out with a huff, slotting it in the crevice of the lock and turning it counter-clockwise. He cheered inwardly when the next time he turned the handle, the door swung open, smile quickly dropping from his face as he caught sight of Keith.

He was sprawled out on the floor, half naked and clutching his side. He was panting a little, the gauze and plasters that had been clothing the wound there disheveled, revealing the raw, red skin around his stitches.

 _"Santo infierno!_ What happened?" He skidded onto his knees by Keith's side, checking the top half of his body, pointedly trying to keep his eyes off the towel barely covering his legs and crotch.

"I slipped when I got out the shower." Keith hissed through gritted teeth as Lance grabbed onto his arm, lifting him up onto his feet.

"Where are your crutches?" Lance cocked his brow as he helped Keith limp to his bedroom, trying to avoid staring at his naked chest. The guest room didn't look much different, only Keith's bag and a messy pile of dark clothing indicating his presence.

"I don't need them." Keith grilled.

Lance scoffed as he lowered Keith onto his bed, grabbing the nearest blanket to wrap around his scantily clad body. Keith resembled a drowned rat, fringe plastered to his forehead, the ends of his hair all fluffy and his face flushed pink from the steam. It was so incredibly endearing Lance was sure even the angels must have envied him.

"I'll patch you up." He said softly, rummaging through the side table for the first aid kit he'd made sure Shiro put in there, retrieving fresh gauze and bandages from the green box. Meanwhile Keith leaned over for his bag, wincing as he pulled out some sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt. Lance just managed to look away before Keith dropped his towel, swallowing as Keith dressed himself, back turned slightly so he couldn't see him in the corner of his eye.

Keith slowly lowered himself back onto the bed, lifting his shirt to give Lance access to the gash on his side, the stitches pulling thin across his skin.

"Your stitches are loose," Lance said as he taped a few sheets of gauze across them, "You'll have to go to Lotor soon to get some new ones."

Keith grumbled, hissing a pained noise into Lance's ear as he applied some salve to the gauze, bandaging around his waist and sticking down a large waterproof plaster on top.

"I'd give you a lollipop for being a big strong boy, but I'm all out." Lance patronized, holding up his empty hands. Keith glared at him, slowly standing up, rubbing his waist with a wince.

Lance sighed, grabbing the pair of standard grey crutches from the corner of the room and thrusting them towards Keith, giving him a pointed look. Keith waved his hand dismissively, pushing the tanned hand clasping the grey sticks away.

"I told you, I don't need them. I can walk fine.

Lance huffed as Keith pushed past him, hobbling over towards the door to pull on his boots (Lance wasn't even sure if he owned any other shoes at this point) and leather jacket.

"Lets go for ice cream, I'm hungry." He announced, "My treat."

Lance sighed, "Keith, there's no way I'm letting you-"

"Then I'll just take my bike." Keith folded his arms pointedly, a challenge. They stared each other down, unblinking as they waited for the other to falter. Finally, with Keith's bright gaze boring into him Lance's firm frown wavered, and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Fine, I'll drive you, but promise me you'll use the crutches when you're at home!" He said quickly, making Keith's sudden grin sway. He huffed, nodding in agreement, making Lance smile in return.

"Let’s go." He motioned to the door. Keith kept a firm grip on his shoulder as they stumbled down the stairs, laughing every time Keith bumped against the railing or slipped on a step. Finally they made it to the car, Lance gently lifting Keith's arm from around his shoulder to help him slide into the passenger seat.

The drive back into the city was relatively short, Matt and Shiro's house just on the outskirts for convenience. Coran's shop was in the center of the city, surrounded by other booming businesses and rival sorbet stores. But nothing could compare to the homemade sweets Coran made, and the domestic feel that radiated from his shop.

Lance pulled up in the lot behind the shop, letting Keith hold his hand as he climbed the back stairs, his other clinging to the banister, blaming the sudden heat in his cheeks on the summer sun, rather than the way Keith arm intertwined with his own, fingers curled around his bicep.

They went in through the back exit into the kitchen, finding Rolo, one of Coran's employee's at the freezer, glancing round the door to smile at them.

"Hey guys! Coran said he was expecting you, I've left your food on the side." He gestured to one of the sleek metal counters, impeccably clean per usual. Keith followed after him with a perplexed gaze as Rolo exited the kitchen to man the counter, door swinging shut behind him.

"How did Coran know we were coming?" He puzzled as he examined the waffle drizzled in chocolate on the counter, his usual order. Lance picked his phone from his pocket, swinging it between his fingers.

"I texted him. Figured you wouldn't want to eat in front of everyone else wearing sweatpants and limping around." Lance explained, pulling up a stool in front of his bubblegum and strawberry mix, already half melted and creating a purple colored sludge at the bottom.

"Oh..." Keith blinked in surprise, pulling up his own stool on the station opposite, counters pushed together to create their own table. Keith noticed Coran had even put one of the cafe centerpieces in the middle.

Keith watched Lance dig in, shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, moaning wantonly around the utensil, "God, Coran is a magical, magical man." He praised, ignorant to Keith's gaze, latched onto his mouth.

"Yeah, he's..." Keith trailed off as Lance started sucking on his thumb, licking the bubblegum off of it nonchalantly. Keith swallowed, ducking his head down to shove a large part of the waffle into his mouth, focusing on chewing rather than the unwittingly captivating Cuban opposite him.

Lance watched Keith bashful face with a smirk, chuckling to himself as he stuffed his mouth full of waffle, resembling an angry chipmunk. Lance wasn't totally sure why Keith had become shyer around him recently, but it was damn funny watching him squirm.

"So what next?" Keith finally asked, sipping at water as he sat up on the counter, Lance carrying their dirty plates and spoons over to the dishwasher.

He furrowed his brow, "Huh?"

Keith's legs swung and kicked under the table, "With the mission. We need to decide on our next move." He elaborated, placing his glass next to him.

Lance turned round, giving him a deadpan look, "You just got _shot."_

Keith shrugged, sliding off the counter to bring his glass over to Lance.

"So? I can still stakeout and interrogate." He countered, sighing as Lance gave him a doubtful side eye.

"I'm really not sure-" Lance began, cut of by Keith's hand on his arm.

 _"Please?"_ He begged, "I'm going insane, and I know you are too." He frowned, sliding his hand off of Lance's forearm as quick as it had appeared there.

"God, just- fine!" Lance threw his hands up in the air, giving in with a huff as a large, triumphant grin spreading over Keith's lips, "But _only_ interrogation and stakeout. Shiro would _kill me_ if anything happened to you."

"I promise." Keith couldn't wipe the grin from his face, "And I know just where to start."

“Wait you wanna go right now?”

Lance followed him with an intrigued gaze as Keith grabbed his hand, using it for support as he pulled Lance out of the establishment, barely giving him time to shove a tip onto the table as they passed. He shook his head as Keith hopped into the driver's seat, stopping besides the car.

"Nope, no way- you are _not_ driving." He refused, "Just put the address in the sat-nav and I'll drive us there."

Keith rolled his eyes, shuffling over the middle panel into the passengers seat with a huff, slouching in his seat as Lance settled happily next to him.

"Shiro hasn't let me go home since the mission. I haven't driven Red for _weeks."_ He grumbled, feeling Lance shoot him a perplexed glance as he begrudgingly inputted an address into the sat-nav Lance handed to him.

"I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be driving anyway? Didn't the doctor tell you five weeks before you can be off crutches?"

"Well I'm off them now and I want to drive." Keith complained, making Lance chuckle, "Don't laugh at me."

Lance grinned, "I'm not, you're just..." He huffed a laugh, "Unbelievable."

Keith didn't really know how to respond, instead just turning to the window and deciding not to read much into it. He focused on the melodies pouring from the radio in lieu of letting his thoughts get away with him, hearing Lance hum along beside him. The words were nonsensical to Keith, in fluent Spanish that was to rapid for him to grasp, but they flowed from Lance's lips as easy as breathing as he softly started to sing along.

 _"Cerrar mi mano en tu mano..."_ Lance began singing, unaware of the poignant eye watching him from across the way, glued to his lips as they gently mumbled out the lyrics in a warm, melted caramal tone.

_"Vamos a hacer nuestra casa en el cielo, en el cielo de alguna selva..."_

He had no idea what Lance was saying, but the words rolled so easily and passionately off his tongue Keith understood exactly what he meant- this was a song of love, of new life. It was nostalgic and Lance's voice was smooth and clear and powerful- it was a song and a voice that could loll you to sleep, so perfectly soothing he felt like tipping his head back and dozing right there. 

He wasn't sure if a guy's voice could be called beautiful- husky, rugged, gravelly, Lance's voice was not. It wasn't deep, and it didn't hold the cliche sexiness or rumble, it went high and low and was impossibly soft, like a kiss to the forehead. It was the promise of tomorrow. It was perfect, and he wished that he would never stop.

Soon enough Lance registered the heated gaze searing into his face, a quick glance to the side revealing Keith sat slack jawed in his seat, mouth parted a tiny bit and eyes hooded and curious.

"What?" He asked, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"I, uh..." Keith coughed, "I didn't know you could sing." His gaze flitted around and Lance shrugged.

"My mom taught me to play guitar and the singing just came along with it, I guess." He shrugged with a smile, "Cat used to make me play for her friends all the time."

"Your voice is nice." Keith said softly, muffled by his sleeve as he chewed on it, his knee folded into his chest protectively, as if he was shielding his heart. Lance glanced at him bashfully, a blush conquering his face.

"Thanks..." He murmured, scratching the nape of his neck as the song slipped into something more upbeat, lyrics seeping through the imaginary translator in Lance's ear, whispering words of sex and lust to him. He swallowed, switching the radio off and turning into the lot of the address Keith had programmed into the navigator, brow furrowing.

"Keith, why are we at a bar? If you wanted a drink I would have taken you to Altea." He puzzled as Keith used the roof of the car to hoist himself out, leaning against the door, waiting for Lance to step out and join him.

"Faith's gang hangs around here a lot. Someone inside might know something." He grimaced as Lance helped him towards the door, suddenly wishing he'd taken those crutches when offered. He bit his lips through the pain, shrugging Lance's hand as soon as they were inside. He couldn't afford to show any weakness, not here.

He felt a few gazes land on the pair as they shuffled over the threshold, an air of confidence surrounding Keith as he strode over to the bar, plopping into a seat.

"Yo, Keith, what're you doing here this time of day?" One of the bartenders called out, flinging a towel over his shoulder as he trudged over to Keith and Lance, pulling out two glasses, "The usual?" He indicated to the glasses.

Keith shook his head, "Thanks, Ulaz but I'm working." Keith waved his hand, "Though I will take two of those smoothies Thace makes?" He said hopefully, pulling a chuckle from the tall bartender.

Lance watched curiously as the two of them joked together, watching the smile on Keith's face with piqued interest as the bartender made his way towards one of his colleagues nearer the end of the bar, motioning to Keith. The other worker waved over before disappearing into the kitchen, presumably to make what Keith had requested.

"So..." Lance began awkwardly, "Is he...?" He trailed off, immediately regretting asking as soon as the words slipped from his mouth. Keith looked at him for a few seconds before his face went blank, and he glared at Lance.

"No. He's not." He said sourly, glancing away, "I don't sleep with _everyone_ I'm nice to."

Lance snorted, "Obviously otherwise you and I wouldn't be on such good terms."

Keith glared at him, glancing away as the broad bartender headed over to them, placing two berry colored drinks in front of them.

"Thanks, Thace." Keith smiled at him.

"No prob, shorty. How are you doing?"

Keith shrugged, "It's okay. I'm bored."

Thace chuckled, "House arrest again, huh?"

Keith huffed, blowing some of the froth from his smoothie onto the counter, opting not to reply. Thace gave a hearty laugh, glancing over at Lance, nodding towards him.

"A friend of yours?" He inquired, catching Lance's blue gaze. Keith and Lance both swallowed, glancing at each other awkwardly.

"We're..." Keith began, trailing off, glancing at Lance.

Lance coughed, "Friendly rivals?" He guessed, making Keith roll his eyes.

"We're friends. Kind off." Keith shrugged, both him and Lance sipping at their smoothies to fill the silence. Thace nodded perceptively.

"So you're Lance." He winked at Keith, and Keith glanced at him desperately.

Lance gazed between them, a single brow cocked, "H-How does he know my name?" He asked, a little fearfully.

"Keith has mentioned you once... or twice." Thace smirked wolfishly, "Don't worry, all good things."

He looked over his shoulder as his name was called, spotting Ulaz behind him, brow cocked and frown in place. Thace grimaced, waving goodbye to the two of them.

"Sorry, boys, duty calls." He gave them a two fingered salute before backing away from the bar, Keith managing to grab a small snippet of Ulaz grabbing his ear and yanking him into the kitchen before they disappeared from sight.

He cleared his throat as Lance spun on his chair to him, a grin in place.

 _"All_ good things?"

Keith glared at him over his glass, shamelessly kicking Lance's shin under the table, smiling as the man winced.

"Abuse..." He whined quietly as Keith swung round to observe the patrons of the bar, spotting a few eyes on him, some of them faintly familiar.

"So," Lance swung to join him, "How _do_ you know those guys?"

Keith sucked on his lip, remaining silent. Lance sighed tipping his head back between his shoulders.

"Look, I'm not asking you to spill your life story or anything." He defended himself, "I just want to know how you know them." He said honestly, catching Keith's gaze as he glance over his shoulder. Keith swallowed, leaning back so he was adjacent to Lance.

"Those guys they're..." He swallowed, stirring his drink with his straw stalling as long as possible. He met Lance gaze as he opened his mouth exhaling shortly before continuing.

"...they're Galra."

Lance's brow furrowed, glancing behind him at the guys near the end of the bar, laughing together as they served drinks.

"Those guys? Really?" His eyebrows knit together.

"Yeah. And so was I."

Lance's eyes widened and he swallowed, "You're an ex-Galra? But you're so... different to them." He puzzled.

Keith huffed, "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you." He frowned, "Some of The Galra aren't that bad, you know."

Lance raised his palms, "Hey," He said softly, "I'm not judging you."

Keith sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, rubbing his brow as he unwillingly continued, "My dad worked for them before he left. He stole thousands from them in order to run away, and they forced my mother to pay it all back."

Lance's gaze softened and he nudged Keith's knee with his own playfully, prompting him to continue.

"She worked as a prostitute. They used her to gain clientele and amuse their guests."

Lance's mouth fell open a little as Keith continued, "When she died her debt fell to me." He swallowed, "I was only fifteen, and I refused to let them sell my body. So, instead, they trained me. Made me a thug they could use to beat information out of people."

"And those guys?" Lance gestured behind him, "Did you meet them on the job?"

Keith gulped, shaking his head, "Not exactly. When I turned eighteen they decided I was old enough to be whored out." He frowned bitterly, "They knew I was desperate, and they didn't see any use for me in the field now I was too big to fit through vents." He glanced around at Lance's horrified face, shaking his head.

"It's okay. Luckily the guy who owned the bordello was abusing his employees so Shiro was investigating. He rescued me before they had the chance to get me any clients."

Lance sighed rubbing his face with his palm, "God, Keith, I'm so sorry."

Keith shrugged, "It’s fine. Lotor, Thace and Ulaz helped clear me of my debts to The Galra. Thace and Ulaz are undercover operatives, like Lotor." He explained, "I owe them everything." He said sincerely, finishing and casting them into silence.

"So your old boss..." The puzzle pieces finally clicked into place in Lance's mind.

"Ryan." Keith affirmed, "He got out of prison. He's been trying to find me for years. Lotor's been throwing him off my scent."

"Wow so Lotor _isn't_ such a dick." Lance finally realized, breaking the thick, somber tension and making Keith chuckle.

 _"That's_ what you learned from that story?" He grinned.

Lance smirked wolfishly up at him as they laughed, shaking his head, "Nah, I also learned you're way stronger than I thought, mullet." He smiled lopsidedly, making Keith blush.

"I'm not, really. I'm weak in lots of ways." Keith mused, leaning up.

Lance sat up suddenly, spinning his chair round to face Keith, "You mean that guy I met a few weeks ago? Cause I hardly think it'd be a struggle to take him down."

Keith ran a hand through his hair, side-eyeing him, "You wouldn't understand."

"So _make_ me understand, Keith." He huffed, "You're strong as hell, yet you can't take down some loser with grabby hands?" Lance puzzled, "Why do you sleep with guys like that anyway?"

"I don't know, maybe because they actually _want_ to sleep with me?" Keith bit back, eyes ablaze, "Don't fucking lecture me, I get enough of that from Shiro."

Lance's brow softened, "Keith, I just want you to be _happy."_ He replied, "Despite what I say, I actually kind of care about you, and I wouldn't be able to bear it if one you got hurt by one of these guys, and I hadn't done anything to stop you."

Keith was quiet as Lance tugged at his hair and spun around to the bar, calling over a nearby bartender, demanding a whiskey.

"You shouldn't drink on the job." Keith scolded softly as he slowly spun round with him, resting his elbows on the bar.

"And _you_ shouldn't sleep with guys who don't care about you." Lance muttered in reply, downing half of the whiskey as it was placed in front of him.

Keith glowered at the bartop, shuffling in his seat. Lance continued to sip at his drink, casting not even a glance Keith's way, fixing his eyes to a sign hanging above the kitchen door.

"Aaron blackmailed me." Keith finally spat out, "He told me he'd tell Ryan where I was if I didn't do what he said, and I stupidly went along with it." He swallowed, "Ryan found out anyway, and now I can't go home."

Lance swallowed, eyes dragging to Keith’s tightly pinched face, placing his now drained glass back onto the bar and sliding it away from him.

"Why didn't you just tell me that in the first place?" He said softly, glancing at Keith, "I could have helped, y'know."

Keith looked at him passively, "I figured this was something I had to do on my own."

Lance sighed, standing up and walking so he was in front of Keith's chair, the raven slowly spinning to face him.

"What are you-?" Keith released a small squeak as Lance pulled him in, his butt still in the chair as Lance hugged him. Keith's face was pressed delicately into his shoulder, his hands cradling his head like a baby just in case Keith wanted to pull away. But the moment Lance's warm arms were around him that was the last thing Keith wanted to do. Slowly, he reached up, wrapping has hands around Lance's shoulders.

"You aren't alone." Lance mumbled softly in his ear. Not sugar coated, not any type of praise, just a firm certainty, and it was enough to bring Keith to some well deserved tears.

"Thank you, Lance." He whispered into his ear. Lance pulled back a little, kissing the spot just above the shell of Keith's ear, discreetly so nobody else could see the intimate display of affection. Keith was a statue in his seat, blinking at Lance in surprise when he finally pulled away to look at him, smiling at the expression on Keith's face.

"You're blushing." He stated with a grin, watching Keith's slack mouth morph into a frown as he flicked him on the forehead.

"Just when I think you're tolerable..." Keith trailed off, displaying a tender smile that went straight through Lance's heart like an arrow. _This boy is going to kill me._

Keith glanced over Lance's shoulder, locking eyes with a tall, lanky figure towards the back, who gazed at the pair of them with a curious, devious smile.

"Come with me." Keith said suddenly, grabbing onto Lance's hand, "And don't let go."

Lance followed him with piqued interest, clutching Keith's hand tightly as he spotted the man they were headed towards, dark haired and staring directly at him, sending a sinking feeling to his stomach.

"Keith, I'm not sure about this..." He mumbled.

"He's one of Faith's." Keith replied in a low tone, "He'll know where to find her."

Finally they were in front of him, Keith staring confidently down at him as they were toe to toe.

"Heya, Keithy, it's been a while." The man's heavy accent divulged his was foreign, and judging by his suggestive tone he and Keith's previous encounter was not one of acquaintances.

"It sure has. How's your wife, Tony?" Keith shot back, making the man's grin falter a little.

Tony ran a hand through his hair, frowning at their clasped hands a little, "You want something from me?"

Keith nodded, "Just the location of your boss." He pulled out the seat opposite Tony, sitting down and pulling Lance into the chair next to him, hands still tightly clasped together.

Tony smirked, leaning forwards, "And what will you give me if I tell you?" His leg raised slowly, foot trailing up Keith's thigh, making his intentions known loud and clear.

"A free pass from my fist." Lance interjected with a sneer, pushing Tony's foot away from Keith, "And if you're lucky you'll never see us again."

"Now why would I agree to never see this beautiful face again?" Tony smirked, grabbing hold of Keith's chin. Keith squeezed Lance's hand as he sensed him getting more and more furious, assuring him.

"I'm not sleeping with you, so you can forget it." Keith grabbed hold of his wrist.

"Why? Got yourself a boyfriend?" Tony snarled, nodding over to Lance, "C'mon, baby, you're not gonna let him tie you down, are you? Not when we had such a good time before..." He trailed off, dragging his finger down to Keith's leg, assuming a tight grip on his thigh.

"Let. Go." Keith bit out, "I'm not here to play games with you Tony. People's lives are at stake."

“Yours will be too if you don't leave me the fuck alone." Tony squeezed harder, and it took everything in Lance not to floor him right there. Keith somehow maintained his composure, keeping his face passive and jaw unclenched.

"Tony, please. Just tell us Faith's location and we'll be on our way." Keith was unable to suppress his wince when he grabbed onto his chin.

"Your little guard dog doesn't scare me, Kogane. I'm not risking my life to give you information, no matter how tight your ass is." He let go of Keith's chin, instead grabbing his hair, "Remember how much you liked it when I did this, baby? Cause I do. You're not a hero, Kogane, you're just a slut. A worthless who-"

Lance sprung up out of his seat to pummel Tony to the ground, but Keith was a step ahead of him, grabbing Tony by the collar and slamming him into a wall. Lance watched in awe as Tony sputtered, Keith's fist connecting with his face.

"Fine, then lets do this the hard way." Keith spat, aiming another precise, bone crunching punch to Tony's other cheek, _"Where is Faith?"_

Tony kicked at him, aiming for Keith's side. A pang of fear went through Lance as he narrowly missed Keith's right side, which he knew was only one strike from splitting open. Keith stayed where he was, feet seemingly rooted into the ground as he held the man almost a head taller than him against the wall.

"I won't tell you." Tony croaked, throat under Keith's fist, which tightened as he spoke.

"I would start talking, pendejo." Lance leaned round Keith into Tony's line of sight, "Cause you got it wrong - I'm not the guard dog around here. He could kick both our asses in a minute flat."

Keith flexed his grip on Tony's throat for emphasis, letting him go as he spat out a stuttered, "Okay, okay."

He fell to the floor and panted, standing up on shaking feet, holding out his arms to stop any other entreat they might attempt. He swallowed, rubbing at his neck as he spoke.

"Faith moved her operation," He began, "The people, they're in the lighthouse, at Pier 39."

"What people?" Keith's brow furrowed.

"He means the victims, all the people that have gone missing." Lance filled in, "If they're at the pier then they're planning to ship them. That means they're still cooperating with The Galra." He put his hand on his hip, rubbing at his mouth, physically and mentally vexed.

Keith sighed, glaring down at Tony, "I'll be in touch with your wife, expect some divorce papers pretty soon." He growled, stepping on his fingers, waiting for a crack before exiting the stunned to silence bar. He gave Thace and Ulaz a quick wave as he disappeared through the door, their mouths wide open.

"He's still got it." Thace awed.

"He's got it bad." Ulaz smiled as he gazed after Keith and Lance, the two of them ducking into Lance's car and speeding away.

"I need to update that bet I have with Shiro." Thace mused, "There's no way they're gonna hold out another two months."

Lance had whizzed them away the moment Keith had buckled in, adrenaline still pumping and a grimace painting his face. Keith was silent, hand clutching his side as they sped along, trees flashing past faster than usual due to Lance's accelerated state.

His gaze kept flitting over to Keith, until he finally summoned the courage to ask, "Are you okay?"

He saw Keith gulp, "I'm fine." He mumbled through gritted teeth, and it's then Lance spotted the patch of red, seeping through Keith's shirt and peeking out from the splayed fingers clutching at the flesh. He swung the car into the nearest lay-by, slamming his foot on the brake, tired screechig to a halt and dust flying at the windows.

"Did your stitches split?!" He exclaimed, pulling away Keith's hand and lifting his shirt, finding his flesh barely held together by one of seven stitches.

"Okay, I'm taking you to Lotor." He announced, looking behind him, ready to pull out of the bay when he felt a gentle touch on his arm, quickly glancing to his side to find Keith's hooded eyes looking at him, lips sealed together in a grimace.

Keith wordlessly pulled him forwards, tucking his head under Lance's chin, holding Lance's hand on his waist. Lance swallowed, glancing down at the top of Keith's dark head of hair as the shorter of them inhaled against Lance's chest, holding him around the waist tightly.

"Just stay like this for a minute." He pleaded in a weak voice, "Please?"

Lance could hardly say no, he didn't want to, especially not when the adorable asshole in his arms seemed so docile, the most he'd ever seen him, like a panther after a bowl of milk. He just sighed, holding Keith in his arms, letting him breathe until he forgot about his wound, about the mission, about anything else other than Keith and his heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song was Esto es Vida, by Draco Rosa. Despite being the whitest looking person ever I'm part Cuban, and I freakin love this song. Even if you don't understand the words just listen, it's so beautiful.  
> The lyrics Lance sung are: Put my hand in your hand, we're going to make our home in heaven, in the sky of some jungle.


	13. What a Feeling

Lance had spent longer than he'd intended holding Keith in the front of his car. It was just too easy, and Keith was just too warm, and he found himself enjoying it more and more to the extent he only pulled away cause he was afraid that if he continued he'd have to put a name to what he was feeling in his heart.

When he finally pulled away Keith was close to passing out, blood now spilling over his fingers and splattering against the leather seats. The drip drip drip of it made Lance wince every time. He decided it was just the stains on his beloved car that were making him squirm. That was easier than admitting what he was really so worried about; Keith.

It was bad enough he'd wormed his way into Lance's brain, consuming his every free thought and branding his own image on his eyes, his face appearing like sun spots every time Lance blinked. A single glance and it was like every ounce of breath had been taken from his lungs, floating into the air like midnight smoke. 

Even when he wasn't there physically, he was _still there,_ stuck on Lance's mind with industrial glue. Some stability in a world of chaos, Lance supposed. It was oddly comforting, to have someone other than Cat as a constant in his life, especially since he now felt her drifting, carving out her own future.

Nonetheless he found it strange, and more carnal than contenting, like a fire, every one of Keith's words like another piece of coal thrown on top, burning into embers. And just like fire, it was sublime. It terrified him endlessly; one wrong move and he'd go up in flames. Yet it warmed his insides, crackling on and on, sated only by Keith's soft words and fleeting touches.

Yeah, he was kind of screwed.

After all, Keith was untouchable. From the moment he'd first laid eyes on him he'd known, it was there in his eyes, hard and cold as they glared at him. The eyes of a person as solitary as a lonely pillar of some great, forgotten structure, detached from anything else other than the great weight above him.

But that wasn't the person who sat besides him now. This person was less intimidating, less volatile. And Lance really, _really_ liked this person. Maybe, if he let himself think it, he even lov- _no. No, get a grip, Lance._

It was late in the afternoon when Lance finally shook himself from his reverie, swinging into the lot outside his apartment. He spotted Lotor's black Mercedes parked across the way, the man himself leaning against the entrance, standing to attention as soon as his eyes caught onto Blue’s vivid bonnet.

Keith had passed out in the passenger’s seat a while ago, whether from blood loss or exhaustion Lance wasn't sure, but he was eager to get him out, the amount of blood he could see covering the seat leaving a pit in his stomach.

"He's lost a lot of blood." He said urgently as soon as Lotor was at his side, helping him lift Keith out of the car, one of his arms over each of their shoulders. He stirred a little as he was jostled about, groaning into Lance's ear in objection. Lance squeezed onto his shoulder, murmuring into his ear.

"We're home, Keith, Lotor's gonna patch you up." He spoke softly, and Keith seemed to register the tone of his voice, judging by the way his eyes fluttered open a little, paired with an understanding nod.

Cat was waiting at the door for them as they hauled Keith up the stairs, fussing over the dark haired boy as soon as he was in her line of sight.

"Keith, oh my god!" One of her hands ghosted her mouth as she assisted Lance and Lotor on dragging Keith into the apartment, passing through the hall into Lance's bedroom. Lance resisted the urge to wince as they lay Keith down onto his bed, his gushing side turning the sheets from cerulean to scarlet in a matter of seconds.

"I already got the first aid kit out, and I got the thickest thread I could-" Cat babbled as Keith clutched at his side panting, hissing as Lotor ripped the rest of the bloodied gauze off.

"Gracias, hermana." Lance kissed her forehead, "We'll take it from here."

She nodded, squeezing Keith's hand, "I'll come see you soon, cariño." She said sweetly, and clearly Keith seemed to register her affectionate words, a pained smile gracing his lips.

Lance, Lotor and Cat were all just tanned, floating blobs among all the blue of Lance's room. Keith could only just take in the comforting smell and soft fabric of Lance's bed, vision spotting as he bled out over the sheets.

"Sorry." He croaked as Lotor began to wipe at his abdomen, hands moving fluidly through the steps he'd been through enough to have them committed to muscle memory. Lance shook his head, taking his place at the head of his bed, kneeling besides Keith just as he had a few weeks before. 

"Don't be sorry, you kicked that guys ass." Lance joked softly, starting to comb his hand through Keith's hair as he did before. Lotor just observed them in silence, unwilling to intrude on the tender moment. Before long he was sterilizing the needle Cat had provided, ready to pierce Keith's skin, a process Keith was able to wait out without a single hiss of pain by now.

"Well, it was stupid to confront him." Keith muttered, wincing a little as Lotor added some sort of icy cream to his skin, numbing the area around his injury, something Cat must have left.

"You were brave." Lance rubbed his arm reassuringly, drawing a small smile from Keith, which he took triumphantly, "And I texted Shiro you're spending the night. He doesn't have to know if you don't want him to."

Keith glanced at Lotor doubtfully, and Lance dismissed the unvoiced thought with a wave of his hand, "Lotor ain't a snitch, right?"

Lotor rolled his eyes as he began stitching up Keith's side, shaking his head, "I won't tell him, but I strongly suggest you do." He glanced at Keith, "He is your guardian. He only wants what's best for you."

Keith swallowed, nodding as Lotor reached the final few stitches, the pinpricks dull and mundane at this point. Though he wasn't willing to let go of Lance's hand, so feigned pain for a little while longer.

"Just one more little prick and it'll be over." Lotor announced as he prodded Keith's skin with the final stitch, prompting a snort from Keith.

"That's funny, I'm looking at a little prick right now." He said smugly, eyes glinting mischievously up at Lance, who scoffed.

"Shut it, mullet. Remember which one of us is bleeding out over my bed before picking a fight." He said pointedly, somehow managing to shut Keith up, through he still stared up at Lance smugly, a trace of amusement on his face and slightly upturned lips.

"All done." Lotor said finally, shoving the few used items into the first aid kit and the sewing kit back onto Lance's dresser. Lance reached into one of the drawers, tossing Keith a pair of pajamas. 

"You can wear these for tonight." He smiled as Keith tugged the loose fitting grey shirt over his frame, hiding the jagged wound from sight and insulating his arms and chest. Lance reluctantly tore his eyes away from Keith as he got ready to follow Lotor to the door.

"Call me if they need replenishing," Lotor directed at Keith, "And any time-"

"Yeah yeah, if it hurts I'll call you. Get back to your date." Keith drawled, hearing Lotor huff with both embarrassment and amusement.

"How on earth can you know-"

"You smell like Allura's perfume." Keith deadpanned, "And I should know since I bought it for her."

"Calm down, Sherlock." Lance mocked.

"It seems he should be fine." He said to Lance dryly, a small grin appearing on Lance's face as he shook his head, directing a small glance at Keith who was smirking smugly up at the ceiling.

"Oh, I almost forgot, give him these." Lotor fished into his pocket, passing Lance a small, orange pill bottle, "They should help with the pain. Even if he won’t admit it, he needs something to take the edge off. Since he won’t use the crutches, these should serve as a suitable substitute."

Lance took the bottle gratefully, clasping Lotor's hand in a firm shake, "Thank you, Lotor. Not just for this, for... everything you've done for him."

Lotor cocked his head perceptively, a small smile spreading on his lips, "Ah, so he told you."

Lance swallowed, sliding the bottle into his pocket, as well as his hands. He squirmed under the scrutiny under Lotor's gaze. He'd found more and more recently the feeling of people's eyes on him uncomfortable, their expression indicating they knew something he didn't. It was off putting.

"Yeah. That was... good of you. Helping him like that." He said weakly, "And I'm sorry for everything I said before. I think I misjudged you.”

Lotor shrugged, "It's alright. Allura warned me about your sense of justice, and as for Keith... it was the least I could do, after what my associates did to him." He frowned.

Lance sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I’m kinda worried. His old boss is bad news." He glanced towards the closed door of his bedroom hoping they were out of Keith's earshot, "But he's so freakin' stubborn, he won't ask anybody for help."

Lotor patted his shoulder, "Then let him know he can." He said pointedly, staring at Lance unabashedly, "If there's anybody he'll trust to help him, it's you. Shiro is there, I know, but Keith’s too afraid of the consequences to open up."

"C'mon," Lance rolled his eyes, "I'm the last person on earth Keith would trust."

Lotor sighed at him, "I think Keith has felt for you for a very long time. And I also think it'll be very easy for you to hurt him." Lotor gazed at him, "Don't."

Lance's brow furrowed, "Felt... what, exactly?"

Lotor cocked his head, giving him a wry smile, "Lance, if you don't know by now, I'm not sure you ever will."

He murmured goodbye as he left the apartment, no other words leaving his lips, abandoning Lance in the porch way to over analyse his words. His mind was spinning, his heart in his throat. He tried swallowing it, only choking himself further as he spun around, coming face to face with Cat, who lent against the wall next to her bedroom door.

"He's right, Lance." She said softly, only further fueling the confused nebula in his brain.

"About _what?"_ He asked perplexedly, "Why does it feel like everyone is expecting something from me? Keith and I..." He trailed off, physically grappling with his fingers for the right words, "We aren't _like that."_

"That isn't true and you know it." Her gentle, knowing tone only frustrated Lance more, tether end firmly reached.

"Cat, just _stop."_ He pleaded, "It's bad enough I have to try and figure out... whatever this is between me and Keith, but you guys pushing me isn't helping."

Cat approached him, grabbing onto his hand, gazing up at him with a compassionate expression.

“I know you’ve been fighting it, Lance. You’ve been fighting it for so long you don’t even realize you are any more.” She patted his cheek, leaning up to brush her lips over the same spot, “But I think it’s time to stop fighting now.”

She adjourned to her bedroom a moment later, leaving Lance only more bewildered and confused, alone in the deadly silent hallway. Feeling his stomach give a slight rumble, he shuffled into the kitchen opposite Cat's door, bringing his eyes up from his feet, only to pause as he laid his sight on the figure at the table.

His throat went dry and he froze, hands glued to his side with weak, open fists as he watched Keith lick peanut butter of a spoon, eyes drowsy, taking longer than usual to focus on Lance's figure. Lance waited for their eyes to meet, anticipating the moment he was almost blown of his feet, the pink and purple sunset casting him in a rosy spotlight, Lance's own eyes blurring out anything surrounding him.

"H-how...?” He rasped, and Keith shrugged.

"I was hungry. It doesn't hurt that bad." He said through the metal utensil in his mouth, currently slathering peanut paste all over his tongue.

"You're unbelievable." Lance sighed once again, finally coming back to himself after what felt like hours, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I told you, it doesn't hurt that-"

"I don't mean that." Lance said quietly, casting them into silence. Keith blinked at him, once, twice, before casting his eyes down to the yellowy-orange jar, visibly swallowing.

"I've heard it all before. It's nothing new." He sighed, shoving another spoonful into his mouth, as if it would help suppress the flood of words itching to spill from his lips.

"Does that happen a lot?" Lance asked nimbly, taking a step towards Keith, hovering near the counter.

Keith shrugged slightly, still fixated on the jar, "Sometimes." He muttered.

Lance's brow tilted sympathetically as he observed Keith's wounded posture and small voice, finally reaching the table, sliding into a chair next to Keith.

"Then _why_ do you do it?" He finally asked the question that had been toying with him for weeks. He'd asked it a million times in his head, attempting to perfectly carve it, sculpt something that would earn him a slap or, worse, upset Keith. But when it tumbled from his lips unrehearsed, he found it easier.

“Lance, please don’t. I’ve had this talk with Shiro a million times.” Keith pleaded, “I’m fine.”

“I’m not Shiro.” Lance said softly, gingerly taking hold of Keith's free hand, “I’m your friend. I’m not going to scold you or force you to stop, but if you tell me what’s going on, maybe I can help you figure things out.”

Keith watched him carefully with those gorgeous indigo eyes that were so perfectly slanted, catching the golden hour light perfectly. It made him breathless.

“I just… like it, I guess.” Keith finally said weakly, “It’s meaningless, but it feels good and… they want me.” He trailed off, cupping his chin and covering his cheek with his forearm. Lance swore he could feel his heart aching for the shamed expression on Keith’s face, his subconscious pushing his hand forwards to pull Keith’s arm away from where it shielded his mouth and cheek.

“You… have no idea, do you?” He huffed, watching Keith’s face cloud with confusion.

“Keith, you’re extraordinary.” He breathed, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted… to be,” He quickly added, “You’re so strong. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. How can you not see how incredible you are?”

It was a question, but in turn, Lance was trying to reclaim Keith's smile. Without realizing he'd become addicted to it, so much that it ached whenever it wasn't on the canvas of his face, making the piece of art sombre, as if completed with dark, dry paint.

"My dad didn't even bother knowing me before he left." Keith said dryly, glaring bitterly at the table, refusing to meet Lance's eyes, "And then you..." Keith closed his mouth, and Lance could see the beginnings of some tears clouding in Keith's eyes.

 _"Me?"_ It ghosted past Lance's lips.

Keith suddenly blinked up at him, eyes holding raw, unfiltered emotion as his words faltered and trembled on his lips.

“I- I’m not crazy. There’s something here I _know_ there is. There has been ever since we met.” His brows knit together in frustration, eyes refusing to look up, afraid of what they might find in Lance’s face, "I liked you. I liked you _so much,_ but you hated me." He brought his hand down to rub over his eye, "And I get that, I do. But it's like I'm destined to be unwanted by everyone I _want_ to want me."

Lance just gazed at him; he hadn't anticipated this sudden fit of passionate emotion. It left him speechless. He could feel himself moving further and further away from the back on his seat, teetering on the edge and only a breath away from Keith. Keith was seemingly unperturbed by the sudden closeness, just kept talking in a hushed, whispered pitch. 

“I’m not sure if this is just a sex thing for you, but it’s more than that for me. And I can’t keep doing this, I ca-“

Lance closed the distance between them without a second thought. It was like second nature, his longing to wipe the broken expression from Keith's face, pushing him forwards to claim Keith's lips. There was a small gasp between them as Keith was caught off guard, the sudden appearance of soft lips on his own taking him by surprise.

His eyes were wide as Lance kissed him, capturing his bottom lip and running his tongue along it it tenderly, lifting his hands to cup his cheeks. Keith's fingers grabbed onto his wrist, holding on for dear life as Lance kissed him breathless, tasting his velvety lips, a soft groan escaping his own.

“It’s not just a sex thing. It’s _so_ not a sex thing.” Lance breathed as they broke apart for air, "I was so scared. I've never felt this way before, about _anyone._ It was easier to hate you then to admit how much I cared about you." He whispered his confession between them, reveling in the way Keith's breath caught in his throat, "And sometimes I was genuinely pissed at you," He added, making them both chuckle, "So it was easy enough to pretend."

Keith shook his head in disbelief, "If you had just _told me_ \- god, I wanted you so much. When I realized it was probably never going to happen it hurt so bad it almost killed me." He swallowed, glancing down at his lap. Lance used his hold on Keith's cheeks to lift his head, kissing him softly.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long." He whispered.

The next time Lance leaned in it was much less tender, just a raw and impassioned meeting of tongue and lips. Keith's gorgeous moans tumbled into his mouth as Lance encompassed his waist with his arms, pulling him out of his chair and pushing him back against the counter. Keith gasped as Lance lifted him onto the white tiles with ease by his thighs, crowding him against the cupboards and kettle.

Lance’s hand tightened in his shirt, the other buried in the mess of his hair. God, he didn’t even know how long he’d been aching to run his fingers through this hair, and now he was finally tangling his fingers in the raven locks they were silkier than he’d ever even imagined, his lips softer than he’d ever dreamed and his tongue sweeter and more torturous in its motions than he could ever had fathomed.

Lance wondered why he hadn't done this before, hadn’t given into what his heart told him. Keith smelled incredible, sweet citrus sewn into his hair. Lance adored how it felt under his hands, soft and tousled through his fingers and under his palms, his other hand exploring Keith's abdomen, avoiding his left side for obvious reasons.

Keith held his face desperately as their tongues met, Lance pulling him roughly against his chest as he splayed his hand over the small of Keith’s back, still not entirely sure if this was all real and determined to live out as much of the dream as he could.

Keith’s fingers were all over the place - his shoulders, his back, his waist - appreciating every flexing tendon and piece of warm flesh at his disposal. Slowly, they crept beneath Lance's shirt, smoothing over his abs and pulling his shirt up over his shoulders. Lance obliged, lifting his arms and disconnecting their lips for a moment so Keith could yank it over his head, hands back on his boiling skin immediately, groaning at the feeling of hot, hard muscle under his cold palms.

"God, _Lance."_

Lance breathed out a moan as his name slipped past Keith's lips in that delectable, honeyed tone, raspy and breathless. Lance's thumb circled over Keith's nipple beneath his shirt, luring a gasp out of him.

"Like that?" Lance asked, smiling slightly as Keith panted into his ear, any sense of words escaping him, only able to nod eagerly. Lance kept pinching and rubbing Keith's chest with his thumb as their lips met again, Keith's warm tongue pressing against his. His fingers curled in Lance's mocha locks, tugging him in closer.

Lance began to fabricate a trail of kisses down his jawline and neck, hands drifting down Keith's stomach, feeling his hips thrust slightly as he stopped right above the waistline of his jeans. Keith's legs hooked around his waist and his head was thrown back as Lance attacked his neck, licking and biting at the flesh, bringing one moan out of another out of Keith's swollen lips.

He swallowed as Keith's hand crept towards the front of his jeans, and the sizable semi growing there. Keith panted into his ear as Lance slid his crotch forwards, pressing into Keith's palm, filling it. He kept peppering kisses against Keith's jawline, slowly drawing his lips and body away, observing Keith's state on the counter.

Keith was fully aware of how he looked: kissed breathless, his lips for sure pink and swollen, clothes in disarray from Lance's rushed movements. He could feel the ache in his jeans, not gone unnoticed by Lance. 

Lance gazed at him in awe, eyes pulled apart from a raging ocean into soft blue rock pools and wavering black pupils, holding miniature stars Keith was sure had descended from heaven to make their home in Lance's eyes.

Lance swallowed his arousal like a large, pink pill, examining the confused expression on Keith's face.

"You're injured still." He panted, "We should stop."

He'd expected Keith's face to turn sour, he himself as unsatisfied as an unfinished narrative, but to his surprise Keith nodded, his usual nonchalant, careless demeanor perished.

"Yeah," He breathed, "We should probably talk before we go any further anyway."

Lance rested his head against Keith's shoulder, humming as Keith's hands tangled in his hair once again, the two of them slowly coming down from the high of arousal. Keith's breath was hot on his ear as he pulled away, joining their lips one last time before pulling away completely, lifting Keith off the counter with his with a strong grip on his thighs.

"What are you doing?!" Keith gasped as Lance hauled him, a fully grown man, out of the kitchen and down the hall, laughing with breathless amusement and holding on tight to Lance's naked back.

"You're staying with me tonight, mullet. Gotta make sure you don't try to sneak out-"

-was Lance's excuse of course, but even Keith wasn't blind enough to believe it. He smiled into Lance's shoulder, happily letting them tumble into the bed, pulling the covers up over his chin.

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this was gonna be a slow burn but DAMN that took a while. It's gonna get real gewd from here on out, ya'll.


	14. Tainted Love

Keith was stirred by a heavy, pulsing beat flooding from the kitchen, mingling with the sizzling of meat in a pan and the scent of sausages and fried tomatoes. He rubbed at his eyes wearily, squinting as they adjusted to the onslaught of blue in Lance's room. For the first time in forever he woke with no pain in his limbs, and a dizzy, warm feeling in his heart.

He trudged towards the kitchen towards the sounds and smells of breakfast. There was giggling travelling down a hall, a peek around the arched door frame of the kitchen revealing Lance swinging Cat around in his arms as they danced clumsily between the counters and around the table. 

Cat's bright yellow sundress billowed in the wind gusting through the open window, reflecting the sun and fabricating tiny little rainbows all around the room, her glossy brown hair whipping around her shoulders while she screamed in delight as Lance hoisted her over his shoulder. The final dregs of September warmth meant cooler clothing, which also meant Keith was blessed by the sight of Lance's muscular legs and thighs through a pair of raggedy denim shorts that fell to his knees, his black tank top and flannel accentuating his upper half equally as much. His hair clearly hadn't seen a comb yet, in disarray and yet somehow still terribly endearing.

There were wide grins on both their faces, prompting one on Keith's own lips as he observed them from the door, only stretching wider as Lance caught sight of him, eyes glistening happily as they met his.

"Keith! You're just in time for breakfast." He yelled over the heavy beat of Wham! seeping from the speakers. Keith shuffled over to the table and Lance placed a loaded breakfast plate in front of them, as well as a glass of water and two white pills.

"Painkillers," He elaborated, "Lotor said they'll stop the pain enough that you wont have to use crutches."

Keith took the pills gladly, willing to do anything to never have to lay eyes on the evil grey sticks ever again, the supposed grips like rough bark on his skin.

"Did you sleep well?" Cat asked through a mouthful of eggs, earning a scolding glance from Lance, smiling sheepishly.

"Fine, thank you." Keith nodded politely, sparing a glance to Lance, who was leant back in his chair casually, humming along to the tune under his breath. For a minute Keith wondered if maybe he'd dreamed everything last night, the nonchalant air surrounding Lance completely juxtaposed to the awkward, unsure tension clouting his stomach.

But moments later he felt Lance's hand creep over his knee cap, ghosting over the thin skin there before interlocking their fingers. Keith smiled to himself at the sweet touch, shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth the suppress his giveaway expression.

Cat, oblivious to the under-table activities occurring only a few feet away from her, carried on chatting away, gesturing to Keith's injured side.

"It looked painful, did you even manage to get any information from the guy?"

Keith nodded, only half-paying attention with the distracting sensation of Lance's thumb brushing over the back of his hand, "We got a new location- the lighthouse at pier 39." He sighed, "Apparently that's where they're keeping the hostages."

Cat hummed, "So when do we attack?"

Keith opened his mouth to reply, quickly shut down by Lance, "The end of the month, once Keith is healed," He glanced at Keith pointedly, who had a dissatisfied expression on his face, "We can't have you doubling over halfway through a rescue mission cause your side split open again."

Keith huffed, blowing part of his fringe out of his eyes as he exhaled. Lance smiled at him softly, squeezing his palm beneath the table.

"You'll be fine. Just a bit of light training and you'll be good as new."

Keith scowled, "I could kick your ass any day- hole in my side or not."

Lance rolled his eyes, "You're cocky as hell." He grinned affectionately.

"No, you're just weak." 

They chuckled and bantered together, unobservant of the piqued interest of Lance's sister across the table, whose fork clattered onto her plate as her mouth fell open, lips upturned in a wide grin.

“Oh my god you had _sex?!”_

Lance and Keith's gazes both snapped to her in shocked, expressions wide eyed and bewildered.

 _"What-_ no! No we didn't!" Lance sputtered, "Why the hell would you think that?"

She grinned, _"Something_ happened last night. You guys are acting... _lovey."_

Keith and Lance looked at each other, biting their lips. Keith shrugged at him, deciding to leave it to Lance to tell his sister what ever he felt comfortable. Lance sighed, combing a hand through his hair as he turned back to Cat.

"We're... together now? I think?" He said, blinking at Keith for affirmation. Keith's lips upturned slightly and he nodded bashfully, rubbing at his arm.

"I _knew_ it! So if you didn't have sex what did you-"

"Catalina." Lance said firmly, startling his sister with the use of her first name, "We're going slow. This is all very new, so don't push it, okay?"

She nodded in understanding, grin still wide on her lips as she jumped round to their side of the table, pulling them both in for a hug.

"Okay, but we've got to tell the others!" She exclaimed, heading to her room to pull her shoes on, "Keith, go get dressed and Lance- for god's sake brush your hair." She ordered as her bedroom door slammed shut.

Lance laughed airily as she disappeared with a flourish, waiting for Keith to turn back to him before planting a quick kiss on his lips.

"W-What was that for?" Keith blinked when Lance pulled away from the brush of lips, the tall Cuban grinning lopsidedly.

"I felt like it. You look cute in my clothes."

Keith glanced down sheepishly as Lance leaned forwards again, peppering his cheeks and nose with morning kisses. The next time their lips met Keith took the initiative to deepen the otherwise gently caress of mouths, sliding his tongue against Lance's, tasting the citrus of his orange juice.

Lance was pulling away far too quick, breathing into Keith's slightly parted mouth and running his hands through his hair.

"We should... talk." He panted before Keith could have the opportunity to reclaim his mouth, "About whatever this is. Before we go any further."

Keith swallowed and nodded, leaning back slightly, heart pounding harder than it was than when they were kissing. Lance's hands were warm as they gently slid into his own, rubbing at his fingers tenderly.

"Well... what do you wanna call this?" Keith mumbled, slotting his finger's between Lance's, bringing both their palms to his lips to brush them against Lance's skin.

"If it's alright with you," Lance grinned, skin tingling where Keith's lips had pressed, "I'd like to call you my boyfriend."

Keith slowly smiled, letting Lance pull him up by their joined hands into an impassioned kiss, their own form of a handshake. Finally pulling apart, Lance ruffled Keith's hair as he made his way towards the bathroom to brush his hair.

"Get dressed and we'll go to Altea," He grinned as he left the kitchen, "I wanna know who won the bet."

Keith chuckled as he traveled back down the hallway to Lance's room. Finally he was absent of any mid-morning haze or dizziness, giving him the opportunity to observe the blue furniture of Lance's room. It was a typical young man's bedroom- disorderly with a cushiony bed and matching armchair next to the sleek white bookcase, holding a mixture of Cuban and English literature. Keith thumbed past them, finding a few he recognized among the mismatch of languages.

Lance must have gotten Lotor to stop at Shiro's before arriving yesterday, as he found a neat pile of his clothing ironed and ready to be worn on the dresser. His favourite gloves and his silver ball piercing were nestled snugly in the pockets of his ripped jeans. He put all three on consecutively, as well as clean underwear, before glancing at the plain black t-shirt remaining skeptically.

He winced as he attempted lifting his arms up to drop the neck of the shirt over his head, his side screaming in pain. There was a creak as the door opened, Lance's head popping round, only momentarily distracted by Keith's half-nakedness before asking, "Need any help?"

Keith nodded, passing Lance the shirt. Lance slowly lifted his arms up, pulling the shirt down over his body. As soon as Keith's head popped through Lance captured his lips, Keith's hands automatically coming round to tangle in Lance's hair, wrapping round his neck in a sweet embrace. Lance held onto his lower back and hip, dipping his tongue into Keith's mouth lazily.

Lance moaned in surprise as the cool metal of Keith's piercing explored the contours of his mouth, detaching to kiss down Keith's neck.

"That fucking piercing has haunted my dreams." Lance grumbled as Keith's back arched under his touch, trembling beneath his hot palms. Keith chuckled slightly, joining their lips again for a short second before ending the brief kiss, the two of them panting against each other as their heart beats slowed.

"Come on," Lance breathed, "I'll help you get your boots on."

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

There hadn’t been the uproar Keith and Lance had expected when they’d crossed the threshold of Altea, hand in hand, Lance’s brown, puffy jacket hanging off of Keith’s shoulders. Just… staring. A _lot_ of staring. Lance could feel Keith squirming next to him under the heavy gazes around the room, holding onto Lance’s hand for dear life, almost cutting off the circulation to his fingers.

The long trek to the bar felt like walking the red carpet- Keith could have sworn he saw a camera flashing towards the back of the room - until he and Lance finally reached the rest of their friends, everyone bar Lotor and Allura suitably accounted for. They didn’t have many words either, only flabbergasted expressions as they stared at their linked hands.

Pidge was the first to speak, breaking the thick silence with a deadpan, “So you fucked?”

Lance and Keith both turned beet red shaking their heads embarrassedly as Shiro, Matt, Shay and Pidge all tucked twenty-dollar bills into the register, Hunk shaking his head at them shamefully.

“Looks like everyone owes Allura.” Pidge muttered as she mournfully gave up her money, pouting at her empty wallet.

“Wait- you _all_ betted on us having sex?” Lance’s lip curled distastefully.

“We figured you’d try and exert your feelings through banging each other, and then realize how disgustingly in love you are. Allura was the only one in the bar who thought you’d get together first.”

Lance looked at Cat with betrayal as she wordlessly handed over her own money, “Y tu, hermana?” He placed a hand on his chest, “Cómo puedes traicionarme así?”

Cat shrugged, “Qué puedo decir, eres una puta, Lance.”

Lance glowered at her, “I’m a slut? Sé de ese consolador debajo de tu cama, Catalina.”

Cat blushed red as the rest of them glanced between them bewilderedly, Pidge scowling at them.

“English please.” She said monotonously, “Not all of us have the brain capacity to be fluent in two languages.”

Lance pursed his lips, “Don’t you speak Italia-“

“Sorry, Katie.” Cat interrupted him, taking her hand.

”You are forgiven.” Pidge said monotonously, despite the affectionate scrunch of her face as Cat kissed her cheek.

“Awe, now we’re all gross couples.” Lance grinned around at all of them, earning a few eye rolls.

“Speaking of- I have some ground rules while Keith’s staying at ours.” Shiro announced, suddenly incredibly intimidating standing over Lance, arms folded.

Keith groaned, “Shiro, tone it down. I’m an adult.”

Shiro frowned, “You are, but my five year old isn’t, and your bedrooms are next to each other."

"Yeah, I don't want you ruining her innocent ears.” Matt said pointedly, earning a glare from Keith and Lance.

"I'm pretty sure you and Shiro have done that already-"

“Therefore any touching above the waist will be done at Lance’s.” Shiro announced firmly, interrupting Lance's mumbling, glaring at him.

Keith threw his hands up, “We only had our first kiss last night- Jesus _Christ_ do you guys really believe all we think about is sex?”

“Yes.” Pidge, Shay and Matt said in unison.

“C’mon, Keith, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Matt grinned, backing away a little as Keith shot him a death glare.

Lance used his grip on Keith’s hand to tug him away from the group and towards the door, waving goodbye.

“Well, if you guys don’t mind, I’ll be taking my sex addict home now.” He grinned, even when Keith’s light slap (which packed a punch) landed on his bicep.

"Don't take him too hard! He has to heal!" Pidge chortled as Lance helped a blushing Keith out of the bar, watching with amusement as he collapsed against the wall never to the entrance.

"God I want my bike back." He grumbled, piquing Lance's entrance, "I could really do with a ride."

Lance smirked lopsidedly, "I'd gladly-"

"Lance." Keith interrupted him with a disappointed scowl. Lance chuckled, hooking his arm around Keith's shoulders, steering him towards his car.

"Well, then let’s go get it." Lance shrugged, "I'll drive you to your place so you can grab your bike, as well as some more clothes and anything else you might need, and you can ride it back to mine."

Keith cocked his eyebrow, "Shouldn't I drive it back to Shiro and Matt's? I'm staying there after all."

Lance shrugged, grinning sheepishly, "I kind of hoped you'd spend the day with me. If that's okay."

Keith pressed his lips together to stop himself smiling too widely as Lance pulled him towards his car, helping him into the passengers seat.

"So you in? If you say yes I'll throw in lunch?" Lance asked.

Keith smiled, "Deal."

The drive to Keith's apartment was a short one, especially with Lance driving well over the speed limit. He hoped it would whisk away part of Keith's tension, not quite correspondent to the rush of adrenaline on a motorbike, but close enough the wind whipped at their hair through the open windows.

Lance was familiar enough with the roads now that he could locate Keith's building without much problem, just a few indications from Keith of left or right.

"Be careful." He warned Keith as the enthusiastic younger man hopped out of the car, grinning as he brushed his lips against Lance's cheek affectionately.

"I will be."

Lance kept his eyes on Keith until he couldn't any longer, sitting back in his seat, hairs on his arms raised, as if warning him of the danger that lurked around the corners. Every moment Keith spent up in his tiny, shoe-box apartment was another minute of Lance's life expectancy lost.

Keith tossed his favorite shirts and jeans, as well as fresh underwear into a rucksack he'd stored in his wardrobe for easy access in case of a situation like this one. His eyes suddenly latched onto a flash of red from the bottom of his underwear drawer, the lacy fabric course on his fingers as he lifted the material from the drawer.

He bit his lip, Lance's impassioned face flashing through his mind, prompting him to sheepishly shove the lingerie into the bottom of his bag, face blushing pink.

He stroked his hand over the framed image of his mother as he passed it to toss some toiletries in with his clothing, as well as his phone charger. He pulled his bike helmet from it's hook, attention caught by a single piece of paper that fluttered to the floor, like a feather on updraft, landing delicately and soundlessly.

Keith furrowed his brow as he unfolded the paper, swallowing thickly as his eyes swept over the words jotted in red at the bottom. Beneath was a printed image, showing him jumping into Lance's car, Lance's face right there, clear as day in colored ink.

_'You can't run forever, sweetheart. - Ryan_

There was a phone number and an address underneath, in the same threatening red scrawl. Keith balled the note up angrily, crushing it under his boot before slamming his door shut behind him. It meant nothing. He could protect Lance, he had nothing to worry about. It was nothing. Ryan was _nothing._

So why did he suddenly feel so sick?

He left his building swiftly, looping both straps of his rucksack over his shoulders, straddling his bike which was (thankfully) untouched by any thieving vagrants that lurked around the area.

He quickly skidded out of the space he'd swung into weeks ago, stopping next to Lance's car, the Cuban gazing at him in awe from the open window.

"Race you home." He grinned, slotting his visor into place before speeding away full throttle, the loud rumble of Lance's engine catching up to him a minute later, till they were side by side.

Dust, dirt and wind flew out behind them as they raced down the road, eyes meeting every few seconds, both their faces dressed with matching, adrenaline fueled grins. Lance had a competitive glint in his eye, his hands gliding over each mechanism and knob in the car like second nature, soaring around the corners flawlessly, the wheels of Blue like large, open wings.

They unfortunately had to slow down in speed as they joined the rest of traffic, stopping right next to each other at a set of stop lights at some point.

"Come here often, hot stuff?" Lance grinned at Keith from the open window, making Keith blush under his helmet. Unbeknownst to Lance he was also smirking through the dark tinted eye shield, leaning forwards so his ass was perked up on the edge of the seat, back arched gracefully. His cunning distraction seemed to be working, judging by Lance's gaze, glued to his body.

Keith revved his engine, speeding away as soon as the light flashed green, leaving Lance in the dust of his wheels, still staring after Keith as he disappeared ahead of him. Keith glided through the rest of the traffic without much of a problem, weaving in and out of cars until he reach Lance and Cat's apartment, skidding to a halt in the lot, shaking his hair out as he removed his helmet and waiting by his bike for Lance to join him.

He heard the crunch of Lance's wheels on the few recluse rocks on the ground approaching him, pulling up in the car spot next to Keith, glaring at him through aviators he'd placed on his nose.

"That was dirty, Kogane." He grumbled, pulling Keith forwards by his hips to kiss him forcefully, unable to resist the easy temptation of sliding his hands down, grabbing a handful of Keith's ass.

Unlike Lance, Keith was all to aware they weren't the only two souls in the lot. And even without the other residents of the building dotted around them, he would still feel equally uneasy, the image of the threatening note that had been so carefully tucked into his helmet flashing past his eyes.

It was tempting to give into Lance's searing touch. But he managed to pull himself away from the mind-blowing kiss, dragging him inside the building and up the stairs towards his apartment.

"Come on, you promised me lunch."


	15. Sweet Child O'Mine

Two weeks had passed since Keith had spent the night at Lance's apartment. Unfortunately despite the unexpected, wonderful development in their relationship, with the hurdles of Keith's recovery and Shiro's glare whenever Lance came within five feet of him during visits, they hadn't seen each other as much as they desired.

But today Lance had awoken to a long anticipated text, grinning as he read Keith's message.

**Mullet: "Just got cleared by the doctor. Meet me at Altea for briefing."**

Lance smiled, tapping out a short reply before leaping out of bed to throw on the first shirt, coupling it with his denim shorts before speeding out into the kitchen. Cat had a single piece of toast ready on a plate in her outstretched hand for him, tapping away at her phone.

"How did you-"

"Shiro texted me." She said monotonously, "Go see your boyfriend, Katie is gonna pick me up in a minute."

Lance gave her a slobbery kiss on her cheek as he took the toast from the plate, pulling a disgusted sound from her mouth as he shrugged his jacket on at the porch and practically skipped out of their apartment to his car, falling into the front seat with a happy sigh.

Light, upbeat tunes played from the radio as he ambled along, smile perpetual, not bringing even an ounce of ache to his lips despite the long drive it sustained for. He tapped his fingers and hummed along to the music as he chewed his breakfast, thankful for the mild day that allowed him to have the top down, accommodating the blissful breeze that created white noise in his ears, blocking out everything else.

Keith's bike was already outside the bar as he swung in, as was Pidge's, the small girl's reckless disobedience of road laws and Lance's dawdling meaning she and Cat had arrived before him.

He parked in the empty spot next to Keith's bike, spinning his keys round his finger and whistling as he shouldered the door open, welcoming the familiar chatter and people around him. He spotted Keith instantly, sat at the bar with Allura, a beautiful smile carved onto his face as he laughed, a sound Lance could make out even from across the room. It faded in and out, cracking slightly whenever it climbed too high in pitch, so perfectly raspy.

He must have sensed Lance's gaze on him, shifting around to sweep his eyes across the bar until finally, they landed on him, and a soft smile spread over his lips, creasing his eyes slightly. He was wearing one of his beloved hoodies, legs covered with loose sweatpants.

He bolted over to greet Lance, tepidly slipping his arms around Lance's waist, achingly aware of all the eyes on them. Lance spun them around so all the scrutinizing gazes were deflected by his back, mumbling a small greeting into Keith's ear.

"Are they ever gonna stop staring?" Keith whispered into his chest.

"Probably not- might as well give them a good show." Lance grinned, Keith inevitably gasping when Lance kissed him, quickly morphing the sound into a tiny moan.

"Missed you." Lance breathed between them as Keith's hands crawled onto his scalp, tangling his hair into knots as he clung on.

"Get a room!" Pidge chortled from the bar, receiving matching glares from the two boys in return.

"Cállate, Pidge." Lance scowled, batting her over the head as he joined her and Cat at the bar, hand in hand with Keith, "Remember when you and Cat first got together? Looked like you were trying to give her mouth to mouth every five minutes."

“Awe, babe, you gave me life." Cat winked at her girlfriend as Lance feigned vomiting all over the counter, feeling Keith slap at his arm scoldingly as he rolled his eyes.

Allura's head suddenly peeped out from her office door, her two french plaits tied short so her loose hair splayed out into pigtails after the base of her neck, dozens of blue and pink forget-me-nots embedded into her thick brown hair.

"We're ready for you." She gestured to Lance and Keith, who nodded, traipsing into the room along with Pidge and Cat. Lance had called her a few weeks back to fill her in on the new information he and Keith had gained. She'd made the executive decision to bring in others into the case, now they could be dealing with an international threat.

Now Keith had recovered, it was time to recommence the operation, hence the large gathering of people in Allura's office.

"Thanks for coming, guys." Lance started, he and Keith taking command of the room as Allura lowered herself, for the first time, into a seat on the other side of her desk. Keith spread out a map of San Francisco on the table, stabbing it into place with four red pins.

"What's all this about?" Shay questioned, stationed at the back of the room, hip jutted out and a dark hand placed on it.

"As you all know, me and Keith were given a job a couple of weeks ago about a human trafficking ring downtown, operated by Faith Black." Lance dropped a photograph of said woman on the table, "But things have taken a turn for the worse, and we need your help."

Pidge cocked her brow, "I thought it was just a small operation? You said it was only local disappearances."

"It is, but the Galra have links internationally," Keith swallowed looking at his lap, "Their buyer is out of nation."

There was a collective inhale as both Keith and Lotor averted their eyes, feeling under scrutiny beneath the scrupulous gazes of their comrades. Keith relaxed a little when Lance's hand slid onto his shoulder, squeezing the junction of his neck and collarbone.

"Thanks to Lotor's information, and Lance and Keith's bravery, we managed to disrupt the last trade before Faith could hand over any hostages. But it was close.”

Lance nodded, "We only have a short amount of time before the next trade. The Galra have been quiet, according to Lotor, but there's been talk of another meeting, tomorrow evening."

"And... you're sure he's on our side?" Hunk asked quietly, eyeing Lotor cautiously. Lotor frowned at the floor, arms folded.

"He saved Keith's life," Lance said firmly, "And all the information he's given us so far has checked out. We can trust him, I'm sure of it."

Lotor looked at him with a surprised expression, mouth parted slightly. Allura nor Keith could conceal their smiles as Lance continued talking, gait firm and determined.

"Thanks to Keith’s interrogation we know Faith has moved her operation to Pier 39. Now it's only a matter of time before the hostages are shipped off around the world to Zarkon's buyer." He pointed to a red pin Keith had previously pressed into the paper, hovering near the diagram of the lighthouse.

"Thankfully Coran's shop is on the pier, right near the bay, so we can use his apartment upstairs to stake out." Keith said, "When Zarkon arrives you guys have to distract them so me and Lance can slip inside to rescue the victims inside."

Shiro frowned, "You're going in there without back up?"

Keith shrugged, "We figured it'd be better to use the brute of our force on The Galra, since Faith's guys don't pose as much of a threat."

"Yeah, except last time one of them _shot you,"_ Shiro scowled, shaking his head, "You can't be so reckless, this time Keith. What if this time they don't miss your spine? Or if they hit you somewhere _worse?"_

The room was silent as Keith and Shiro glared at each other, the atmosphere around Keith seemingly sparkling red.

"I've got his back, Shiro." Lance stepped in with the small certainty, "I wont let him get hurt."

Shiro looked at Lance desperately, "That's the problem, Lance. You two will be too busy protecting each other to save the hostages."

"We're not children, Shiro." Keith scowled, "We know how important this mission is."

"Yeah, but _I_ know how important you are to each other," Shiro said pointedly, "So I'm going in there with you."

Keith sprung up, "Shiro you have to be at the precinct for when we call to diverge Iverson, and Matt-!"

"Matt understands that what I do is dangerous. He can stay to look after Grace when I go, and we've had enough practice in escaping the police to get out before they arrive."

"Shiro, please, you could lose your job." Keith pleaded with him, but Shiro's stance was firm, and Lance had fallen silent behind him.

"I'm not changing my mind, Keith." He said immovably, "Now if that's all I have to go and pick Grace up from school."

Keith was fuming as Shiro grabbed onto Matt's hand, pulling his bewildered husband from the room. He clenched and unclenched his hands what seemed like a hundred times before storming from the room, taking with his the tense, stuffy air of the room. Everyone remaining released a collective breath.

"What. The fuck." Pidge breathed, breaking the long silence. Allura covered her eyes with his palm, rubbing at her eyes.

"Shiro's just worried someone’s gonna get hurt again. When he heard Keith had been shot he almost destroyed the front door on his way out." She sighed.

"But... still..." Cat trailed off and bit her lip, glancing out of the door after Keith worriedly.

"Lance, what do you think?"

Suddenly all eyes were on him as Lotor directed the question his way, making him gulp under the scrutiny.

"I..." He began and swallowed, stifling his words momentarily, "I'm not sure." He rubbed his neck sheepishly, "I think Shiro went a little too far."

"I can't blame him though." Shay shrugged, "I mean, he's worried he's gonna lose Keith. And now you two are dating..." She swallowed, exchanging eye contact with Hunk.

"What?" Lance frowned, "What's the problem with me dating Keith?"

Shay shook her hands, "There's no problem!" She exclaimed, "It's just, Shiro kind of has a point. Now you two are together, protecting Keith is gonna be your main priority."

"What she means is, despite you finally realizing your feelings for Keith, you can't let them get in the way of the mission." Allura supplied.

Lance reeled back, "You think I'm not gonna be able to concentrate on the mission?"

Hunk sighed, stepping forwards, "We're _saying_ that the mission isn't going to be your only concern. Aren't we right?"

Lance sucked at his lip contemplatively, pushing himself out of his seat.

"I'm gonna go find Keith." He mumbled as he shouldered his way through everyone to the door, kicking it closed behind him. They all huffed.

"Well that went well." Lotor grumbled.

Amongst the soft bar chatter there was a disjunctive, stuttered grunting sound coming from the stairwell leading to Matt and Pidge's workshop. Lance followed the noise, treading precariously downwards until he found himself at the door of the training center, watching the thriving body in front of him in awe.

Keith was beating the shit out of an inanimate training dummy, sweater gone, leaving him in only his black tank top as grains of sand spilled from a bag he'd already pummeled his way through. Lance’s mouth hung open as he watched Keith furiously kick and punch at the lifeless figure, distracted by the ponytail Keith had pulled his hair back into, flicking back and forth as he danced around the mat.

He watched for longer than was appropriate, focused on the swift movements of Keith's limbs gliding through the air, every action instinct and committed to muscle memory. Now and then a grunt or a shout would echo around the stark white chamber, either from Keith's frustration or another splitting of his knuckles.

Lance cleared his throat, freezing as the noise bounced from the walls, catching Keith attention. Keith froze, head snapping round to fix Lance with an adrenaline fueled, fiery gaze.

"What?" He snarled, turning back to the dummy to reinitialize his assault. Lance stepped forwards, precariously shrugging his jacket off and watching the trajectory and force of Keith's punches. They weren't as calculated as they usually were, fueled by passionate anger and his flaming heart.

"Keith, you're going to hurt yourself." He deadpanned as the first drop of blood smeared onto the dummy from Keith's fists. Keith scowled at him from over the head of the dummy, refusing to cease his advances.

Lance sighed, taping up his fists in the corner, keeping his eyes trained on Keith's figure, in particular the flailing ponytail that did _things_ to him. He distantly remembered the scumbag a few weeks earlier tugging on those soft locks, bringing a scowl to his face. He also remembered the expression on Keith's face, the combination of fury and fluster.

He trod forwards with light steps, creeping up behind Keith, who was too occupied by his own grunts and punches to sense the surprise attack before Lance had grabbed hold of his ponytail, tugging on it slightly and making Keith's eyes open wide.

He spun around, cheeks red, "What the hell, Lance?!"

"I'm sorry, does that annoy you?" Lance grinned, reaching behind Keith to pull at his hair with more force, a disbelieving expression encompassing his face.

"Why are you- hey stop that!" Keith slapped his arm away as he reached to repeat the ministration.

"Spar with me." Lance demanded with a cunning smile, raising his fists. Keith put a hand on his hip.

"I'll kill you." He deadpanned.

"Suffocated by your thighs? There are worse ways to go." Lance grinned, punching Keith's shoulder lightly, attempting to initiate a fight, "Come on, you clearly need to let off some steam, just go one round with me."

Keith huffed, "What do you think I was just doing?" He motioned to the deformed training dummy.

Lance scoffed, "Come on, right now you need to fight a _person,_ and since Shiro's pretty face isn't here for you to punch, I'll let you punch _my_ pretty face." He offered, reaching around and grabbing at Keith's hair one last time.

Keith's face turned bright scarlet and finally, he leaped forwards, kicking at Lance's stomach with little force. Lance barely dodged it, springing back and aiming a punch at Keith's head. Keith ducked with ease, and so they began, back and forth, Lance's grin spreading wider and wider with every minute.

Even Keith started to catch some of the playfulness, laughing as Lance skidded backwards under the brute force of one of his kicks, using his upper body to immediately spring back up, taking Keith by surprise as he lifted Keith by his waist, slamming him back onto the floor.

"Come on, mullet. You can do better than that." He panted with a wolfish, lopsided grin. Keith narrowed his eyes, glancing down to examine the position of his knee, finding it only inches from Lance's crotch. He smirked.

Realizing where Keith's gaze was aimed Lance's eyes went wide and he leaped up just as Keith's knee came up, missing his crotch by an inch.

"That was dirty, Kogane." He growled.

"I thought you wanted to spar, not dance." Keith drawled, raising his fists once again. Lance launched himself forwards, Keith stepping to the side with ease to avoid the force of his body slamming into his, kicking at Lance's lower back. Lance spun around to grab hold of Keith's wrists, smirking as he kissed one slightly, keeping his gaze locked with Keith's.

Keith's breath caught in his throat for a second, before his scrunched up his mouth and sprung up, kicking both his feet against Lance's stomach to detach his hands from his wrists.

"Don't cheat." He hissed, rubbing at the blush on his cheeks as if he could somehow wipe it away.

Lance grinned, "But you make it so _easy."_

Keith growled, speeding forwards to knock Lance onto his stomach, pulling his arm back and tucking it under his armpit, tugging with all his might. Lance released a strangled groan, tapping at the floor until Keith let go, the two of them panting.

Lance turned onto his back, vision clouded but still able to perceive the silhouette of Keith, his clothed thighs bracing Lance's hips, pinning him to the ground. His whole body was flushed, his face especially, lips parted as he attempted to catch his breath.

Their eyes remained locked together for several moments. Lance momentarily wondered if he'd somehow been transported to heaven; Keith looked so goddam delectable on top of him, legs quivering and mouth glistening under the stark white lights, eyes misted and mildly aroused.

Lance dared to lift his hand now his heart had calmed a little, enough he was sure it probably wouldn't beat out of his chest when he cupped Keith's cheek precariously. Keith on the other hand looked close to cardiac arrest, Lance's touch making him shudder, eyes fluttering closed.

"You're gorgeous." Lance murmured, and god, did he mean it. Keith was one of the most stunning beings Lance had laid his eyes on.

Keith moaned as Lance's fingers brushed over his lips, not hesitating to take them into his mouth, eyes half-lidded as he glanced down at Lance, sucking on his fingers till they were wet down to the webbing. Lance's heart caught in his throat as Keith's hips bucked up a little, stuttering in the open air at the shock of Lance's other hand creeping under his thin hoodie.

Lance gulped as he brushed his thumb over one of Keith's nipples, biting his lip at the perfect sounding moan that fluttered from Keith's mouth, ascending into the air and echoing off the walls.

Keith's own hands suddenly registered they could move, sliding under Lance's shirt to claw at his skin, every pinch or brush of skin against his chest sending shivers down his spine.

 _"Lance."_ He breathed as Lance's other hand slipped from his mouth, wet fingers coming up to squeeze at his other nipple, pulling a wrecked whine from his lips.

He tugged at Lance's shirt until it finally slipped over his head, bronzed skin straining as his stomach clenched. Keith leaned down, Lance hands still shoved under his shirt, albeit faltering in their motions as Keith kissed down his chest, laving his tongue over his abs, glancing up at Lance cunningly.

Lance tore his hands from under Keith's shirt, pulling him up and gathering him in his arms. Keith groaned beautifully into his ear as he backed him against the wall, twining his legs around Lance's slim hips to sustain himself there. One of Lance's hands stayed curled around Keith's upper thighs and ass, squeezing the flesh as his other buried itself in Keith's hair, tugging slightly.

Keith moaned breathily, undoubtedly aroused and eyes watering from the mix of sensations.

"You like that?" Lance murmured in his ear, digging his fingers into Keith's scalp to pull his hair back with more force. Keith nodded, slipping lower in Lance's arms so Lance's hand was cupping his ass, fondling it appreciatively.

Lance kissed his way down Keith's cheeks and neck, over every faint bruise still remaining there. Keith's hands clenched in his hair as he reached the hem of his hoodie, hauling it over Keith's chest to attach his lips to a pink nipple.

 _"Agh!"_ Keith warbled a moan as Lance started sucking at his chest, licking at the skin there and swirling his tongue around the nub. Keith's erection was prominent, now, protruding out of his sweatpants painfully. Lance leaned back up, finally connecting their lips. Keith's breath shuddered out of him as Lance's erection nudged his slightly, eminently larger than his own as they fit together, which only turned Keith on more.

Lance's hands slipped down Keith's chest, thumbing at the waistband of his boxers curiously. Keith froze in place as his fingers hooked inside, edging closer and closer, so, _so_ close when-

"Jesus Christ!"

Lance and Keith's heads spun towards the door, where Matt stood with his hand slapped over his eyes, glaring at the door frame, pointedly avoiding looking at them. Lance immediately went to shield Keith's body, tossing him his tank top as he yanked on his own shirt.

"S-Sorry, Matt." Lance said sheepishly. Matt was wearing a slight, embarrassed blush, a bright pink bag clutched in his hand as he slowly turned to Keith and Lance once they were dressed.

"I just came to get Grace's bag." He said monotonously, "But apparently you guys can't keep it in your pants long enough to _not fuck_ in the training room."

Lance and Keith glanced down at the floor, stifling their laughter as their eyes met.

"Just- use protection or whatever." Matt spun around, the bun he’d pulled his hair into bouncing, dismissing them with a bat of his hand, "But use it at _home."_

Hearing the latch to the stairwell slam shut, Keith and Lance erupted into laughter, Lance falling against the wall as his chest began to ache from the pain of Keith's punches mixed with the violent shaking of his rib cage.

"Well that sucked." Keith drawled, "Matt killed my boner."

Lance snorted, "I'm sure it'll recover. Just... somewhere else?"

Keith bit his lip, shrugging, "Your place? Tonight?"

"Promise you wont punch me in the face this time?" Lance countered, passing Keith his jumper.

"Don't pretend it doesn’t turn you on." Keith countered, "I saw you watching me."

Lance shook his head with a grin as Keith flounced out of the room, waving his fingers in goodbye as he disappeared up the stairs. Lance glanced at his semi with a grimace, thoughts of his grandma and the whales at Sea World quickly settling what remained into it's grave.

"He's going to be the death of me." He sighed as he left the bar, hopping into his car.

Well, there were worse ways to go.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

When Matt exited the bar he could sense the somber aura surrounding the car, especially once the passenger door swung open, revealing Shiro sat solemnly in the front seat. He tucked Grace's bar onto the back seat, hearing her mumble softly to her action figure in the back seat. He gazed over his shoulder at her fondly before turning back to his brooding husband.

Shiro's jaw was set in stone, clenched tensely while his knuckles whitened from their tight grip on the wheel. He clucked his tongue in a pondering manner, clearing his throat.

"Do you think I went too far?"

Matt hummed, "Depends. Did you say everything you wanted to?"

"Yes."

"But you still feel shitty." Matt supplied.

"Papa what's shitty?"

"Nothing." Shiro and Matt answered in unison, lowering their voices as their conversation continued, Matt releasing a tired sigh.

"Keith isn't that kid you rescued, anymore, Takashi." He mumbled, "He's strong. And Lance is probably the best thing that ever happened to him." He brushed his thumb over Shiro's knuckles, smiling as they gradually turned back into the colour of flesh, rather than the stark white they had been.

"They're going to get hurt." Shiro grumbled through gritted teeth, "They're the most self-sacrificing idiots I've ever met. That doesn't make for the best team."

Matt grinned, "Once upon a time you thought they'd be the best team in the world."

"No, that's us." Shiro countered, giving Matt a playful side eye, "And that was before I realized how far Keith is willing to go."

Matt swallowed, sighing once more, "They'll be okay, Takashi." He squeezed the hand Shiro had wrapped around the gear stick, "We need to let them live, now."

"I practically raised those kids." Shiro swallowed, "They're my responsibility."

"They were, years ago. But they're adults now." Matt said firmly, "Your only responsibility is to make sure you all make it home safe, alright?"

He glanced one more time over his shoulder at the small body in the back, gazing into her precious face longingly.

"For her sake, as well as mine." He murmured.

Shiro blinked once, twice, before nodding slowly, finally taking Matt's hand in his, as they ambled down the road back home.


	16. Take on Me

Keith could feel the adrenaline of anticipation zipping through his veins the moment he arrived back at Shiro and Matt's to get ready. It filled him with excitement, setting his nerves alight like a Christmas tree. He threw his clothes into a steadily growing pile in the corner, hopping into the shower.

His hands shook as they lathered soap over his body, toes clenching as they touched the chilled ceramic floor. The hot water helped suppress some of the shivering, dripping from his hair and shoulders and vaporizing into steam, creating a foggy, haunted mist. He bathed his skin carefully, taking care not to press too hard on his side, or the bruises almost faded from sight but still tender to the touch.

Closing his eyes, he let the stream wash over his face, creating a thin film of water over his mouth and nose. He pictured Lance's face, Lance's lips, his wet hand steadily travelling downwards towards the cleft of his ass.

He stretched himself quickly and without muss fuss, free hand grasping against the wall as his other explored his insides. His panting breaths misted the air ahead of him as he steadily thrust two fingers in and out of himself, scissoring them ever so slightly on every withdrawal.

Lance's name littered the air as he gradually opened himself up, moaning the syllables breathlessly every time he brushed his prostate. But this wasn't for him, he reminded himself. This was for Lance, to make _Lance_ feel good.

He chewed at his lip, withdrawing his fingers with a hiss, whether from the small sting or the empty loss he wasn't sure, shutting the water off and skidding out of the small, white cubicle.

He toweled his body off quickly, removing most of the moisture from his hair, the rest left for the wind to collect later on the drive to Lance's. He padded back out into his bedroom towards his wardrobe, pulling open a drawer to pull on some underwear.

Again, for the third time, his eye was caught by the scanty lace underwear folded neatly at the back. A small smirk sneaked onto his mouth as he slid the red lingerie on for the first time, glancing up to examine himself in the mirror.

He shielded the rest of his naked body with his arms bashfully, sucking on his lip as he studied his pale thighs, contrasted with the red fabric disappearing through the cleft of his ass, barely covering the shape of his dick. He looked okay, he supposed. Nothing like the model from the poster, but alluring enough to convince himself to keep them on.

Despite the risque underwear he dressed casually, pulling on a red and black sweater and blue jeans, as well as his usual boots. He kept his tongue piercing in, intent on using it to his full advantage. He laced his boots up at the door, hearing light footsteps approaching behind him. He knew his jeans covered his underwear well enough, but still, a shameful blush appeared on his cheeks.

"Going to Lance's?" Matt grinned, leaning against the door frame to the living room, where Grace and Shiro were sat colouring.

Keith swallowed, "Y-Yeah."

Matt nodded, eyes glued to Keith suspiciously as grabbed his bike helmet from the hook and shrugged on a jacket.

"Keith..." Matt began, snapping his mouth shut the moment Keith's eyes met his, lit with curiosity. 

"What?" Keith cocked an eyebrow.

Matt smiled, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Nothing, just..." His eyes were soft as he spoke, taking Keith a little by surprise, as he'd been expecting some suggesting advice or a smug grin, "You look happy. You _are_ happy, aren't you?"

The bridge between Keith's brow creased, "Of course I am."

Matt nodded, patting Keith's shoulder.

"Good- have fun." He bid, quickly turning before entering the living room, "Oh, and Keith?"

Keith tilted his head inquisitively.

"Lance won't know what hit him." Matt winked, eyes flitting to Keith's waistband and back up, before joining Shiro and Grace at the table. Keith blushed profusely, muttering goodbye as he slammed the door shut.

Shiro cocked his brow, "What did you say?"

Matt gave a small grin, "Just a little encouragement."

Shiro shook his head, returning to the colouring book as Matt smugly flipped through channels.

"I'm married to a demon." He mumbled under his breath.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It didn't take long for Keith to reach Lance and Cat's apartment, now, no navigation required, the turns committed to memory and every street sign recognisable. Cat was already halfway out the front door when Keith swung in front of the complex, waving at Pidge across the lot, who was hanging out of her car, grinning at Keith smugly.

"Heya, Keith, cum here often?" Cat greeted as he slipped into the building, earning a harsh glare.

Pidge gave a short burst of laughter, "Awe, come on Cat, leave him alone. The _cock_ eral woke him up too early this morning."

"Oi, demonios!" Keith heard a voice from a few stories above him, head snapping up and eyes landing on a tall figure hanging from a window, frown etched onto his lips, "Leave him alone!"

Lance’s eyes landed on Keith, frown morphing into a soft smile, "Come on up!" He disappeared back into his apartment, pushing the window back down. Keith blushed as the front door slid closed behind him, Cat and Pidge's hollering of encouragement following him up the stairwell.

"We're good friends." Pidge sighed as she sunk back into the front seat.

"Totally." Cat agreed, sticking a lollipop into her mouth.

"...wanna prank call Hunk and tell him Shay's pregnant?"

”Do you really think he’ll fall for that a fourth time?

Pidge snorted, “It’s _Hunk.”_

Cat pondered for a minute eyes narrowing in thought slightly before she shrugged, "Eh, why not.”

Meanwhile Keith ambled up the staircase, shaking his hands out to try and rid himself of some of his nerves. He rapped three times on Lance's door and it swung open, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting inside the apartment, illuminated only by a few candles and Lance's bright smile.

"Hi." Lance said softly as his eyes quickly traveled the up and down distance of Keith's body.

Keith smiled, stepping forwards to wrap his arms around Lance's neck, kissing the corner of his mouth and then his lips. Lance hummed, taking hold of Keith's cheeks, slipping his tongue into his mouth for a perfect, bare second before pulling away.

"God you make it hard to stay composed."

"Then don't." Keith smirked, leaning up to connect their lips again.

Lance dodged him just in time, instead brushing his lips over Keith's cheek, taking hold of his hands.

"Later." He vowed, "But first, I made dinner."

Keith's mouth popped open in surprise as Lance led him through to the kitchen. The usual stained tablecloth had been cast aside, a clean, purple supplement in it's place, adorned with full plates that filled the air with a mouth-watering aroma. 

A large vase of flowering roses were placed in the center, next to a radio that played both English and Spanish love songs to them. The only light came from flickering candles dotted over the counters, illuminating and animating their silhouettes against the wall.

"What, has nobody made you dinner before?" Lance joked, admiring the awestruck expression on Keith's face as he perceived the scene.

Keith rubbed at his elbow shyly, biting his lip, "No..."

It was then Lance was reminded of how little romance or affection Keith had been shown in his life. Guys hadn't bothered to take him for dinner before bedding him, and Keith had gotten so used to it he didn't even see a problem with it. It hurt Lance just to think of how he was treated, what he was made to endure.

"Baby, I'm going to make this the best night of your life." He vowed, circling his hands round Keith's hips to walk him over to the table, smiling against Keith's mouth as they kissed and lowered into their seats.

The moment they parted Keith's eyes were fixed on the plate in front of him, dipped in the middle to hold the steaming chicken in a viscous yellowy sauce.

“Ever had Fricasé de Pollo?” Lance asked, scooping some potatoes onto Keith's plate.

"No. Did you make this?" Keith asked in astonishment.

"Yeah. My mom made this for breakfast every time one of us had a big day ahead, so I learned to make it for Cat after I became her guardian." He chuckled, "This got her through a lot of English tests."

“Your mom made you chicken for breakfast?” Keith asked with a breezy laugh.

“Ay, we are Cuban. We eat ground beef during funerals.” Lance said firmly in an over-exaggerated accent, bringing another pretty chuckle from Keith’s lips.

"That's... really sweet, actually." Keith mumbled, blowing on a spoonful of chicken, "You talk about your grandmother a lot, but you've never really mentioned your parents before." He said softly.

"Yeah well, it's... painful." Lance said in a small voice, prompting Keith to cup his cheek.

"You don't have to." He assured him.

"No, it's something I want to share with you. Remember I told you my dad bought me that telescope for my birthday? Well the year after that..."

Keith listened intently while Lance peacefully recalled the memories of his youth, of rope swings and forest adventures with his big sister. Memories of Cat's first steps, of his mother crying after particularly long fights with his father. Keith took all of them in, filing them away, each and every one another little piece of Lance entrusted to him.

"What was she like, your older sister?" Keith asked after one of Lance's longer nostalgic stories, bringing a small smile to Lance's face.

"Penelope?" He fiddled with Keith's fingers, "She was awesome- a nurse. She helped me to study for astronomy school."

Keith cupped his cheeks, stroking Lance's cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, "I'm sorry you lost her."

Lance shrugged, turning his cheek in Keith's palm to kiss at his fingers, each individually at a time, "It's alright. I've had lots of years to get over it. And besides," He blinked up at Keith under heavily lidded eyes, taking his breath away with the intense darkness of his blue irises.

"I got you, didn't I? So things didn't turn out too bad."

Keith's smile stayed carved into his lips for the rest of their dinner, maintaining comfortable conversation, chatting of all the little things they could think of- Grace, Allura, their favorite things. Anything and everything they wished to divulge out in the open. Keith wondered if this was how easy it was for everyone once they found somebody they loved.

Taken aback a little by his own train of thought, he mentally pulled the brake- _too soon to go there, way too soon._

Once their plates were polished Lance carfully took Keith's hands, pulling him over to the breakfast bar.

"And now, dessert." He grinned, pulling back a cloth to reveal a shiny waffle iron.

Keith chuckled as Lance padded over to the fridge, pulling out a jug of pre-made batter, licking his lips at the sizzle the cooker released as the two hot irons met in the middle.

"You really like waffles, huh?" Lance chuckled as Keith took a seat across from him at the breakfast bar. Keith nodded bashfully as Lance tossed over whipped cream and chocolate sauce.

Keith heaved the chocolate and fluffy cream onto the waffle, sectioning off a small portion for Lance to snack on while he wolfed down over three quarters of the waffle. Lance watched him with a fond smile. At one point Keith misplaced some whipped cream on his nose, prompting Lance to lean forwards to scoop it off with his thumb, popping the digit into his mouth. Keith blinked up at him.

"That was disgustingly domestic and I never want you to do it again."

Lance chuckled, lifting the plate from the table, giving Keith a kiss on the top of his head as he padded over to the sink, running a stream of hot water and beginning to rub soap over the dirty dishes and humming along to the radio. Keith rested his jaw in his hand, watching his ministrations, deep in thought.

He thought of tonight, of everything Lance has done and had done in the past for him. It brought an unintelligible feeling to his chest, one he couldn't place, but was determined to act on.

He hopped off his stool, slowly advancing on Lance's dwindling frame, the tall Cuban too lost in the melody of the song to notice the advancing attack.

By the time he sensed Keith's presence it was too late- Keith had already inserted himself between Lance and the sink, fingers tight in his shirt and pushing him backwards towards a dining chair.

"Hey, what are you-?" Keith pressed a finger to Lance's lips, lowering them into the seat and placing himself in Lance's lap, initiating a heated kiss. Despite being taken unaware, Lance melted into the soft embrace of lips, hands curling around Keith's waist.

"Keith." He breathed, placing his hands on Keith's waist as Keith started to kiss down his neck, sucking at Lance's collar bone and glancing up so their eyes met, heat crackling and sparking between them, "God, you're perfect."

Preening beneath the praise Keith continued his advance, sliding his hands up under Lance's shirt, moaning as his fingers scraped over the steaming hot skin of his abs.

"Jesus." Lance cursed as Keith grinded down on him, the duel sensation of the painful scraping of Keith's fingernails on his abdomen and the wet tongue at his throat sending him spinning. 

His hands were everywhere, touching every part of Keith's upper body he could- his arms, his hair, his nipples. God did he love the sounds Keith made when he pulled on one of those pretty pink nubs, a warbling, desperate cry into his ear.

"K-Keep going." Keith hummed, interlocking their fingers, guiding Lance's hands down the trail of his spine to the waistband of his jeans, hearing a ragged breath escape Lance's lips as his fingers brushed over the rough fabric peeking out of Keith's pants.

"Keith, are you...?" He trailed off, swallowing thickly as Keith slid both their hands into his pants, slipping his own out to leave Lance's alone, holding onto his bare ass, thumbing at the thin string between his cheeks.

"I wore it just for you." Keith whispered into Lance's ear, biting on the shell and starting a long trail of wet kisses down to Lance's lips.

Despite being undeniably, irrevocably turned on - _hello, Keith is in a thong and he's not a saint -_ Lance couldn't ignore the way Keith's whole body was trembling the further his hands traveled. He took a moment to regroup, slowly removing his hands and lips from Keith's skin, earning a protesting whine from the boy in his lap.

"Why are you-?" Keith was silenced by a gentle finger over his lips, indicating for him to be quiet. Lance's eyes were softer than ever as he gazed into Keith's dark, inquisitive eyes, hand carding through his hair in a soothing gesture.

"You're driving me insane, mi amor." He murmured as Keith nuzzled into his hand, kissing at his fingers.

"That's kind of the idea." Keith whispered with a tiny grin.

Lance shook his head, leaning forwards to gingerly rest his head on Keith's shoulder, exhaling against his sweater.

"For the record, I'm finding it incredibly hard to hold back, so please just sit and listen while I talk, okay? Otherwise I'm going to lose it."

Keith hesitated for a second, until Lance felt his hair brush his cheek, indicating a slow nod.

"You don't..." Lance sighed, trailing off for a second, filtering out his words, "You don't need to do things like this to turn me on, you know that right?"

Feeling Keith freeze, Lance pulled his head from his shoulders, framing Keith's soft, pale cheeks with his hands to keep their eyes locked together as he spoke softly.

"I'm gonna be by your side, no matter what. You're so goddamn perfect, Keith." He kissed him tenderly, "And you don't deserve to be treated like you're anything less."

Keith's lip began to tremble slightly, so faint Lance could barely perceive it before Keith was clearing the fog growing in his throat, swallowing his emotions the way he'd trained himself to.

"Do you... not like it?" He asked in a voice smaller than what Lance was used to. Lance shook his head, leaning forwards to kiss the shell of Keith's ear.

"Why the hell would I dislike something like this?" Lance cocked his brow, "There are so many things I want to do to you right now." He kissed his jaw, "Terrible things - but this isn't just about me."

"I'm... I wasn't sure if you'd find it... strange." Keith murmured, blinking up at Lance when another kiss was planted to the corner of his mouth.

“We're in a relationship, now. We’re equals. So if wearing things like this makes you uncomfortable, you never have to wear them. If there’s anything you don’t like, just tell me." Lance started kissing at his cheek and neck, "You don’t have to do anything, baby. Let me worship you, like you deserve.”

Keith pressed his lips together, stifling his tears as he slammed their lips together, kissing him. No tongue, no clawing at clothes. Just a sweet, loving caress of lips. When they broke apart they were both panting, Keith eyes cracking open just a smidgen to stare at Lance's lips.

"Take me to bed, Lance."


	17. Summer of '69

Keith moaned as Lance hauled him into his arms, carrying him off towards his bedroom with his biceps pressing Keith against his chest, keeping their lips locked wetly together until they reached the foot of his bed and he gently lowered Keith onto it.

Keith held him against his body possessively, keeping his fingers twined into Lance's scalp as their lips slid against each other hotly, tongues twining inside the warm cavern of each other's mouths. Lance's hands held onto Keith's cheeks gently, rubbing at the sharp jut of the bones beneath the skin.

Keith’s hips bucked as Lance kissed down his neck, his hands exploring the planes of Keith's stomach underneath the sweater slipping from his shoulders, exposing skin of gorgeous porcelain just waiting to be bitten into. His hands were hovering, unsure of where to place themselves as Lance ravished his neck and collarbone.

Sensing the tenseness in Keith's shoulders Lance slipped his hand into Keith's mid-air, bringing their closed palms to his lips, glancing at him through hooded eyes. Keith's free hand grabbed at a fistful of Lance's hair as Lance brushed his abdomen, tickling the supple flesh there.

"Relax." Lance urged, pressing the entire length of his body against Keith's, like a hot, comforting blanket. He took Keith's next breath as an opportunity to pull his sweater from his body, sliding it past his head in one swift motion thanks to the bagginess of the material on Keith's frame. Keith bit on his lip to suppress his nerves as Lance kissed the point of his chin, creating a path down his neck and chest, pausing to flick his tongue over a pink nipple, luring a gasp out of him.

"Like that?" Lance asked, eyes lidded. He gave Keith's other nipple a teasing kiss before continuing his entreat down Keith's body, mouthing wetly at his abdomen for a moment before reaching the waistband of his jeans.

He glanced up at Keith a moment, taking the strong grip in his hair and Keith's pleasured pants as permission to continue, slipping his thumbs into his jeans and gently beginning to slide them down his legs. 

A blush as red as his underwear flamed up on Keith's cheeks as Lance mouthed at his waist and abdomen, slowly making his way to his flushed cock straining against the scanty fabric of the panties. Lance slid his thumb into the waistband, snapping it against Keith's hips, making him jump.

"Want these off, baby?" Lance questioned, blinking up at Keith through long lashes. Keith's hand and wrist was shielding his face a little as he shook his head vehemently, thrusting his hips up. He was intent on using the garment to it's full advantage.

"You sure?" Lance cocked his brow.

"They're fine." Keith cast his gaze to the side, face the colour of a newly ripe tomato. Lance knew why Keith was so instant on keeping them on, but as long as he wasn't uncomfortable he didn't see a problem- especially when they looked so damn good.

Lance leaned forwards, sucking on the head of Keith’s cock through his underwear. Keith's skin was warm, probably due to the rush of blood to the surface of his epidermis. Keith's fingers curled in the sheets as Lance sucked and licked at the precome leaking from the top of his cock, sending him dizzy with pleasure.

"G-God-" Keith stuttered, keening forwards and yanking at Lance's hair, "L-Lance I can't-"

"Has nobody ever done this for you before?" Lance asked softly, tenderly stroking at his cock, his spit mixing with Keith's leaking pre.

"N-No." Keith swallowed, "Usually they just fuck me right away." He mumbled, glancing at his hands. Lance frowned in discontent.

"They never let you get off?"

Keith shook his head as Lance's thumb brushed over the head of his cock, pressing his lips into one thin line, "N-No, sorry-"

"Don't apologize." Lance said smoothly, pressing a kiss to the soft skin on the inside of Keith's thigh, "I'm gonna rock your world, baby."

Giving Keith's cock one final fleeting kiss, Lance gently turned Keith onto his stomach. Keith's breath caught in his throat, hands gripping onto the pillow nervously. Lance mouthed at his neck slowly, encouraging him to breathe as he grinded his still fully clothed crotch into Keith's backside, pulling a slew of moans and curses from his mouth.

"I'm gonna take this slow, okay?" He murmured into Keith's ear, brushing his fingers over Keith's cheeks. Keith nodded with a low-strung whine, spreading his legs further apart. Lance grinned against his skin, brushing his lips over Keith's lower back and down to his ass cheeks, mouthing and biting at the supple flesh.

Lance palmed both his cheeks gently, feeling Keith tense under his fingers in full anticipation for whatever Lance decided to do next. Lance's mouth watered as he followed the red piece of string that disappeared between Keith's cheeks, the full, round globes hiding it from sight.

With a deep breath Lance spread them apart, biting his lip out of Keith's line of sight. His hole fluttered shyly between his asscheeks under the intensity of Lance's gaze, glistening prettily under the dim lights. Keith glanced over his shoulder, wondering what exactly was taking Lance so long.

"Lance what are you- oh _jesus~"_ The last syllable morphed into a drawn out moan as Lance's tongue licked over Keith's hole, "Wh-what the-?"

"Has nobody ever licked your sweet hole open, baby?" Lance observed as Keith's eyes widened. Keith's lip was wavering, hips quivering in Lance's hold. He dropped his head back into Lance's pillow, relaxing so his hole contracted open, wet and ready for Lance's tongue.

Lance licked his lips to wet them, licking roughly over Keith's hole. He had clearly cleaned, his hole relaxed and supple around Lance's tongue as he thrust it inside. Keith's back arched deeply and a slew of moans left his lips as Lance kissed and licked over his entrance, hands struggling to keep him held up with their incessant shaking.

His eyes drooped shut as he relaxed more and more into the feeling, every hum that left Lance's lips reverberating up to his skull, where it bounced around in the emptiness of his mind. He felt like fire, burning from the inside out.

Lance was fucking magic with his tongue, and Keith really shouldn't have expected anything less.

He started rolling back, halfway to riding Lance's face, dropping an arm back to wind into the mocha colored strands of his hair. He couldn't control any noise that left his mouth, could only quiver there while Lance's sinful tongue worked inside him.

"You're loose." Lance growled against his perineum, sending shivers up his spine. He glanced at Lance through hooded eyes, swallowing his cries of pleasure like thick pills.

"I-I wanted to be ready, so I could make you feel good." Every breath he drew increased the blush that had spread over the entirety of his body.

Lance tutted, "You wanted me to fuck you straight away? No no no, we're taking it slow tonight, baby." He murmured, teasing his long pointer finger over Keith's hole, "Did you think of me? When you had your fingers inside of you?"

Keith was accustomed to the concept of dirty talk, but never before had it struck a place so deep inside of him. Heat pooled in his belly and in his cheeks, his breathing becoming rapider.

"Y- _yes."_ He breathed, pushing back against Lance's fingers, "I thought of you."

"How deep did you go?" Lance thumbed over his cheek and chin.

"T-Two fingers." Keith whispered, his entire body going slack in Lance's arms as two long, sneaky fingers intruded into his hole. They were slick with lube Lance had somehow located during Keith's lusty reverie, sliding easily into his hole. He gasped, letting Lance pull him up so his back was pressed against his chest, and he was sat gingerly on his fingers.

"Gonna need more than that to get you ready for my cock, baby." Lance shook his head, fingering Keith open gently, finding not much give despite the thoroughness of his tongue- Keith was willing to let him have sex with him like this?

He eased Keith into the sudden presence of fingers, scissoring his walls apart slowly and sweetly. Keith trembled against his chest, Lance's free arm wrapped around his waist to hold him there. One of Keith's hands was tangled in Lance's hair as he slowly rocked on his fingers.

"Do you like playing with your hole, kitten?" Lance tried the pet name out hesitantly, satisfied when Keith bit his lip alluringly, sinking further onto his pistoning fingers, "Do you always think of me?"

"Mhm." Keith confirmed, halting when Lance's ring finger prodded at his hole, sweetly asking for entrance. Keith dropped onto all three willingly, shuddering out a breath of satisfaction.

"You're doing so well." Lance kissed at his ear, "So tight for me."

Keith keened at the praise, and at the same time Lance managed to locate his prostate, nestled deep and barely ventured, his back curving into a perfect arch as he cried out. Lance smirked, striking it again and again, clenching and curling his fingers, turning Keith into a puddle of wax besides a flame.

Keith's toes and fingers clenched in the air as Lance's fingers slowly drove inside of him. He wasn't used to so much prep- most of the guys he'd been with preferred to use scant or sometimes even none at all.

"Yes, _yes,_ right there, ah- don't stop _don't stop."_ Keith pleaded, the perfect trio of Lance's fingers scissoring apart. His body was attacked with countless shivers of pleasure, wracking through him boundlessly. Out of nowhere Lance's free hand curved around his shoulder, pulling him around by his cheek to lock their gazes together, Keith finding himself staring into gentle, stormy blue oceans, though they were almost completely consumed by Lance's pupils.

"Keith." Lance murmured, taking Keith's breath away with just his name, "So good, so beautiful."

Then Lance's hand was on his cock, sliding up and down the dripping flesh that soaked the fabric of his panties, and it all became too much. Lance's face bloomed into a soft expression as Keith came over his hand, hole clenching tightly around his fingers and _god,_ just imagining what that would feel like around his cock made Lance groan.

Lance swore the moan Keith made as he came was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Keith wasn't even completely aware of the noise that escaped his mouth, the perfect offspring of a whimper and a cry molded into one. The noise encouraged a low groan from Lance, an attempt to ground himself as Keith trembled in his arms from the sudden climax.

Lance fucked him through it with harsh stabs of his fingers, becoming more fast and erratic as Keith sobbed, still face to face and giving Lance the most spectacular view he'd ever seen. Keith's lips were kissed and bitten red and his eyes were watering, wavering indigo glistening right in front of him. They stayed fixed to him the whole way through it, even as Keith threw his head back and whimpered in overstimulation, forcing him breathless.

Once Keith came down Lance gently removed his fingers, settling Keith onto his back. Keith whined as Lance molded their mouths together, wrapping his weak legs around Lance's hips loosely. Lance’s cock was straining painfully against his jeans, nudging against Keith's leg.

"K-Keep going." Keith urged him, finger brushing over Lance's fly. Lance swallowed, brows knit together as Keith's soft fingers tempted his cock to flinch. He yanked his shirt off first, revealing caramel skin etched into with a colored needle, the fierce pattern of a blue lion engraved onto the skin near his hip. 

Keith's fingers brushed it curiously for a moment, making Lance's shudder from the sudden contact of Keith's cold palm on his steaming abdomen. Keith appreciated the hard feeling of abs working beneath the tattoo, flinching under his touch.

"It's amazing." He breathed in awe, letting Lance capture his lips right after. Lance rolled them around so Keith was seated on his abdomen, thigh covering the lion tattoo and fingers grappling for Lance's button so he could yank his jeans and boxers down.

Keith sucked his lip into his mouth as he wrapped his palm around the base, finding himself unable to get his two fingers to touch. Lance thumbed at it, groaning out loud as precome spilled over his fingers. Keith's eyes boggled.

"Is that a...?" He trailed off, taking his lip between his teeth.

"Piercing, yeah." Lance licked his lips, eyes barely open, "Is that... no good? I can take it out."

Keith certainly did _not_ want Lance to take the pretty piece of silver out of his cock, secured through the bulbous head that slapped against his stomach. Lance had one of the nicest cocks Keith had ever seen, a gorgeous, flushed tan colour, the head glittering with the piercing as it’s length curved gracefully with blood- and oh boy, it’s _length._

Keith crawled down so it stood proudly in front of him, eyes hooded as he took it into his mouth, the swollen cockhead throbbing against his tongue as he sucked. Lance maintained a tight grip on his hair, voice grating huskily as he breathed Keith's name. The metal of his piercing was cool against Keith's own, adding to the weight of the already heavy flesh in his mouth.

"Fuck- god that's so good, Keith." Lance praised, caressing Keith's cheek. He felt dirty in a way, like he was taking something unsolicited. He was so intent on making this night about _Keith,_ about helping him explore his body and own pleasures. But god when Keith flicked his tongue like that, sliding his own piercing over the dripping slit, it was damn hard to resist. He had most of Lance's brain in his mouth, after all.

"Fuck, you're really big." Keith hadn't meant to make Lance's cock swell further just from those few words, but he couldn't help but moan under his breath as it pulsated and engorged in his hand. He could barely fit half of Lance's cock into his mouth, substituting the wet heat with his hand on the parts he couldn't reach. He _ached_ to get it inside of him, even the sting of his scalp feeling pathetically good where Lance held it due to his oversensitive body, his cock slowly stirring back to erectness.

Flattening his tongue on the head Keith started licking up and down, cheeky, kittenish flicks of tongue that dragged his piercing over the ridges of Lance's length. His thighs quivered as they held his ass up, back dipping and displaying his thong to Lance whenever he dared to glance down.

"Fuck _yeah,_ just like that." Lance moaned, legs tensing where Keith held onto them, metal clinking over metal when Keith curled his tongue around the head, making Lance clamp his hand down on Keith’s skull, and as a reflex Keith hollowed his cheeks and _sucked._

Lance hadn't meant to hold Keith's hair so hard, ruffling it apologetically as Keith's cock dribbled more precome onto the sheets.

"You're perfect, so perfect. God you can barely fit any in," Lance stroked his cheek as Keith heavily lidded eyes perceived him, "You're gonna feel so good when I'm shoved up inside of you."

Keith popped off with a gasp, ragged and desperate as he gazed up at Lance, _"Please,"_ He begged, letting the tip of Lance's cock rest against the seam of his glistening lips, heavy and throbbing along with his heartbeat. He kissed it, hearing that clack of metal again.

"You sure?" Lance panted as Keith suckled on the head, receiving an enthusiastic moan in return. Keith slinked up so his ass was poised right above Lance's cock, teasing the head with his fluttering entrance, coming so close they were almost mouth to mouth.

"Fuck me, baby." Keith breathed against his lips, eyes blowing wide as Lance kissed him with such force he was knocked onto his back, moaning as Lance slowly licked into his mouth.

"How do you want me?" Lance panted against his lips, cock nudging Keith's entrance.

"In every way I can." Keith whispered into his ear, crying out as Lance stabbed three fingers all slick with lube inside of him, filling his needy, throbbing hole, _"Ah~!_ Yes, baby, _f-fuck."_ Keith stuttered, combing his fingers through Lance's hair appreciatively.

Lance took another minute to fully stretch Keith open enough. He knew he was girthy - that much was apparent by Keith's struggle just to get him in his _mouth -_ but he sure loved a challenge, and apparently so did Keith judging by the way he rutted back against him.

Ever so slowly Lance pulled the panties down Keith's legs, past his feet to fling the garment to the other side of the room. Keith blushed, cock on full display, flushed and throbbing against his abdomen. Lance took hold of it, pumping him slowly as he withdrew his fingers from Keith's hole.

"Tell me if you wanna stop." He said sincerely into Keith's ear as Keith sunk further into the pillows, clutching at the fabric beneath his fingers.

"Not fucking likely- would you just get on with-" Keith was cut off by Lance's finger, glancing up to find Lance gazing at him pleadingly. He sighed, leaning up on his elbows to kiss Lance briefly, reassuringly. 

"I'm not fragile, Lance," He said softly, "I'll be okay and I _promise_ I'll tell you if I want to stop." He vowed. Lance smiled against Keith's palm as it slid up to hold his cheek, kissing it once, twice, before aligning himself with Keith's little pink hole.

"Keep your eyes on mine." Lance ordered, satisfied when Keith locked their gazes together. He kissed him a final time, pulling Keith's hips up and stretching his cheeks apart, making his hole as wide as possible for him.

Keith's mouth parted in a pained, shuddering gasp as Lance slid the head of his cock inside. The piercing was a foreign but welcome feeling, a shock of cold with the steaming temperature of Lance's length. It snagged inside him, sending shocks up and down his back and forcing him to clench sensitively. He took deep breaths, brow furrowed as he tried to get his body used to the stifling size of Lance.

"That's it, _amante._ Just relax." He kissed Keith's cheek, "You feel perfect."

Praise spurring him on, Keith gave a curt nod, using his grip on Lance's shoulders and the heels in his back to spur him onward. Lance pressed them flush together, chest to chest, squeezing Keith's ass cheeks as he pushed further and further inside, Keith's mouth open around nothing but a silent scream as the piercing dragged roughly against the walls of his hole.

"La-nce." He panted, "F-Full."

Lance kissed all over his body, "You're doing so well, almost there." He assured him.

Keith knew the moment Lance's fingers cupped his cheek what was coming, the sudden rush of Lance's pelvis meeting his ass tearing a sharp, ragged cry of pain from his mouth, tears catching at the corners of his eyes.

Lance exhaled as he bottomed out, panting against Keith's neck. Keith felt ethereal around him, beautiful whimpers sounding into his ear as he clenched tightly. Keith bit his lip at the feeling of the metal inside him sliding against the most sensitive parts of his body, making his toes curl. Lance was so deep he could have sworn he felt him in his throat, splitting him all the way in half.

"You're taking me so well, baby, so fucking perfect." Lance kissed the shell of his ear, "I'm going to move now, alright?"

Keith nodded against his shoulder, fingers digging into his back. Lance rocked shallowly, fucking Keith in short, sharp bursts, exploring his insides with the blunt force of his thick head and piercing. Keith released a series of whimpers into his ear, prompting Lance to swallow them into his own mouth, the presence of his lips comforting as Keith's insides spasmed.

 _"Fuck,_ Keith." Lance cursed when Keith started thrusting back, whines morphing into moans, a short cry of pleasure breaking past his lips when Lance slammed into him fully, rolling his hips repeatedly, gradually picking up the pace.

"Yeah?" Lance said, punctuating it with another hard snap of his hips, "You like that, baby?" _Another_ and this time the metal of his piercing snagged on Keith's prostate, and he jerked so violently in shock he nearly screamed.

 _"Ah!_ Fuck, _yes,_ right there, _fuck-"_ Keith gasped.

It took willpower Keith never knew he had to resist flat out _screaming_ when Lance started to fuck him- really _fuck him,_ pounding Keith into the mattress. Even above their panting and the music still sounding from the kitchen Keith could make out the sound of sex, their skin clapping together and his voice reaching octaves he didn't know it could and _fuck_ it was so hot, so fucking hot Keith felt like he was burning.

"God, look at you." Lance breathed, combing Keith's face to bathe in the glory of Keith's expression, so utterly fucked Lance felt close to coming. His mouth was parted in ecstasy, eyes hooded as they gazed fiercely up at him, "So pretty, squeezing around me, _fuck,_ you're so perfect, Keith, I can't-"

This time, in this situation the praise has Keith _crying_ in pleasure, body trembling with a sudden rush of molten heat.

 _"Yes,"_ He whimpered, "Please, Lance oh god don't stop _don't stop-"_

Lance released a low, terrifyingly hot growl, wrapping his arms around Keith's middle and rolling them over with Keith pressed flush to his chest, now on his back with Keith sat on his cock, gasping as it slid further inside of him.

"Oh, Lance, _fuck-"_ He whined, rolling his hips a little and downright sobbing when Lance's piercing hit his prostate again, "You feel so good, so deep inside me, deeper than I've ever had."

Lance bit his lip, using his hands on Keith's hips to help him slowly rock up and down. Sliding them past Keith's thighs he pulled Keith's cheeks apart, watching his cock get sucked into him with abandon.

_"Annhh!_ Lance wh-!" 

"You're so stretched baby, yet you don't feel a thing." He murmured, watching Keith grow impossibly harder on top of him. He was only sinking down on barely half of Lance's cock and, well, he couldn't have that.

"Is it too big for you? Or are you going to be good and take it all? I know you can, you were so loud for me a minute ago." He whispered filthily into Keith's ear, hearing him gasp. Without warning Lance sat up so Keith was sat in his lap, not giving him time to register the shift before he slammed Keith down by his hips and Keith full on _screamed._

_"Nghh!_ Lance- Lance _please!”_

"Spread your legs, that's a good boy." Lance whispered the praise in buckets to Keith, loving the way he clenched with every sugar coated word. And he meant every one of them.

Keith did as he was told, legs shifting further apart so he was sat on Lance's lap, bare and spread out for him like a feast. Lance thrust into him slowly, driving Keith slowly insane with the slow pace.

"More, more Lance _please!"_ He sobbed, bouncing desperately in time to Lance's thrusts, bathing in the slick sounds coming from where they were connected, "It's so thick, I can't fucking _breathe."_

Lance's eyes remained fixed on the wide opening welcoming him so readily, licking his lips. Keith would kill him, but oh how he ached to pull out right now, to shove his tongue into that wet, filthy mess and make Keith scream his name for hours on end.

"That's it, baby, ride my cock, just like that." Lance sighed breathlessly as he slammed into Keith again and again and _again,_ "You're being so good, bouncing up and down, taking my cock inside of you." He cooed.

"I'm so close, I'm _so close."_ Keith sobbed, crying out in pleasure as Lance took hold of his cock, pumping him slowly, rubbing his thumb over his slit on every tug up.

"A- _ah_ fuck! I'm-" Keith didn't have time to finish before he was painting his stomach milky white, a single tear slipping past the barricades of his eye.

Lance bit his lip, _"Keith."_

Keith groaned, insides throbbing as Lance continued to pound into him, holding onto Lance's face with both hands, mouth slack, wide open and gasping in over-sensitivity. 

"Lance." Keith gasped in return, "Lance, Lance, Lance _Lance-!"_

One final thrust and Lance was falling over the edge, and Keith distinctly heard a loud curse leaving his mouth before the new and unfamiliar feeling of Lance's release flooding into him, leaking out as Lance continued his way through it. He held onto Keith's shiver-wracked body, slipping out once he'd finished and causing a large whine to burst from Keith's lips.

"Shh, _mi corazon,_ I've got you." He mumbled, letting Keith fall back against the covers. He was vigilant, standing on unsteady legs to grab a washcloth from the bathroom. He was careful with Keith's sensitive body as he wiped him down of any trace of sex or semen, stirring him for a moment just to slip some night clothes onto him and to tuck him into bed.

Wiping himself down, Lance sighed happily, throwing cotton pajamas onto his body, still warm from recent activities. Keith looked like an angel, curled up into himself, buried beneath the sheets with a soft, sated expression. Lance fell into the place next to him, hitching his leg over Keith's and caging him against his chest with his strong arms.

"Hi..." Keith whispered sleepily, eyes too tired to blink open as he smiled tenderly. Lance gazed down at him, heart full and fit to burst as he stroked Keith's hair gently, making him hum with satisfaction.

"Hey beautiful." He mumbled, "You okay?"

Keith's eyes cracked open a little, lip knawed between his teeth.

"I didn't know it could be like that."

Lance exhaled softly through his nose, leaning down to kiss him slowly, their mouths sliding together countless times before Keith finally tucked his head beneath Lance's chin, and they began drifting off together slowly.

When he was sure Keith was asleep, and just before he fell into slumber himself, Lance murmured his response.

"Neither did I."

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

"What the _fuck-"_

Keith's eyes blinked open, on high alert as a loud voice filled his ears. Lance's arms were still wrapped around him, shifting slightly as Lance groggily started to wake up.

"Go away, Cat." Lance grumbled into Keith's hair, "Go bother your girlfriend."

"Lance why is there _women's underwear_ in your room?"

Keith and Lance’s snapped open and they sprung up in perfect harmony - Keith to frantically cover his body beneath the sheets, and Lance to force his sister from his room.

"Your pervert girlfriend must have left them there- now go away you're scaring Keith!"

"Lance you _whore_ did you get your boyfriend to-"

"Can't hear you over the _stupid_ sorry sis." Lance cut her off, slamming the door in her face.

"Fine, just be ready in half an hour! We have to be at Coran's for the stake out!" His sister yelled from outside, before the tell-tale sound of retreating footsteps sounded.

Keith peeked out from the covers, seeing Lance smiling at him from the door. He blushed, covering his face and ducking back under the covers.

"Awee, come on _kitten."_ Lance teased, tugging his shirt and bottoms off so he was stark naked, halfway tempted to just tackle Keith. He knew a dick to the face wasn't most people's preferred way of waking up, though.

"I hate you." The shape beneath the sheets grumbled.

He yanked on fresh jeans and a loose jumper, padding over to the bed and wrapping his arms around the Keith-shaped blob, kissing what he presumed was Keith's head, grinning successfully when he felt some hair tickling him through the thin sheets.

"Get dressed and we'll grab some breakfast. If you can walk."

Keith kicked him and he laughed, tickling at Keith until he emerged from the sheets, hair a mess yet still breathtaking. He kissed him softly, squeezing his hip before hopping off the bed.

"Get dressed, lazy, I'll make waffles!"

Lance had never seen a sheet move faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lolololol get the title? GET IT?


	18. Total Eclipse of the Heart

Keith fiddled with the dials on the radio as Lance drove them towards Coran's. Pidge and Cat had taken a separate car per usual, letting Keith and Lance settle into their usual spots in the front of Blue. Lance had put the top down per Keith's request, and right now Keith was flicking through stations, searching for something in English.

He paused when a sudden change of station ebbed another type of foreign melody from the speakers. Lance's brow furrowed as some sort of slow, Asian melody reached his ears, only becoming further confused when Keith continued to listen, head bopping slightly.

"You like this sort of stuff?" He cocked his brow.

Keith shrugged, a nostalgic expression on his face as the wind whipped at his hair, "Reminds me of the stuff my dad would play around the house."

Lance studied Keith carefully, staring analytically at his pale skin and eyes that were a tiny bit slanted at the sides. He reeled back when the pieces snapped together in his mind, clarity sweeping over him.

"Wait, are you Asian?" Lance gaped.

Keith snickered a little at his flabbergasted expression, nodding his head as he laughed, "Yeah. My dad was half Korean."

Lance nodded towards the radio, "Do you speak it?"

Keith smirked, "너는 바보 야."

Lance's eyes widened, "What the hell! Why didn't you tell me this? What did you say?"

Keith shrugged, "Just that you're cute."

Lance gave him a suspicious glare, committing the words to memory so he could flip through a Korean dictionary later. He tapped his fingers along with the beat, the words nonsensical but pretty nonetheless.

"So did your dad teach you Korean?" He finally said, gesturing to the speaker where the lyrics poured out in smooth baritone.

Keith shrugged, turning his attention to the flickering scenery, "Some. I'm hardly fluent like you with Spanish."

"It's sweet." Lance gave a fond smile, "You've never really talked about your parents."

"Well my dad was kind of a scumbag, in case I hadn't mentioned that yet." Keith said dryly, "And my mom was a whore. Not really much else to say."

Lance gave him a tender expression, slurred in with a tinge of guilt, "Still, you must have some nice memories of her. She used to soothe your nightmares, you told me."

Keith swallowed, shrugging nonchalantly once again, "Just normal mom stuff. She didn't get me telescopes or learn anything about me. She just did what she had to to keep us alive. That didn't work out either though, I guess." He said bitterly.

Lance's hand unconsciously fell onto Keith's knee, thumbing the paper thin skin there. Keith cooled a little at the touch, biting his lip apologetically.

"Sorry, I just... I try not to think about back then."

"Hey," Lance said softly, "It's okay, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I told you, you don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." He said firmly, reassuringly.

Keith nodded, smiling slightly, gaze snapping back to Lance as he cleared his throat to continue.

"Is there anything in particular you don't like?" Lance asked gingerly. Keith's face contorted into an embarrassed grimace as he brought his knees to his chest on the seat, wrapping his arms around his legs.

"Not... really." He said weakly, pathetically. Lance saw right through him, obviously.

"Nothing? You sure? I mean, we're dating now so there should be some ground rules- are you sure there's nothing any of your past..." Lance coughed, _"...endeavors_ have done, that you haven't liked?"

Keith kept his gaze locked onto the window pane, the hand on his knee gripping softly as Lance sensed his discomfort.

"It's just me, babe." He said softly, "I'm not gonna judge or anything."

Keith's mouth twitched contemplatively, and he sighed, turning around in his seat, tugging at the ends of his hair slightly as Lance gave a satisfied smile.

"I guess I don't like anything derogatory, I guess." He said smally, "I mean the stuff _you_ call me is okay but sometimes guys would call me a..." He took a breath, "Slut, or whore. Sometimes they wouldn't even bother learning my name." He gave a weak, faltering grin.

Meanwhile Lance held a stoic expression, fingers dancing soothingly across Keith's knee as he spoke, resisting the urge to clamp down protectively. He swallowed down the mistiness of his throat, nodding solemnly.

"And nothing that would leave bruises, either, I'm guessing." Lance added, thinking back to the purplish hue of Keith's neck a few weeks before. Keith nodded slowly, looking down at his lap in shame. Lance tugged at his fingers, prompting him to look up at his gentle smile.

"Hey, it's alright. If it's okay I have a condition of my own." He asked, and Keith nodded, eyes open in curiosity. Lance cleared his throat, "My rule is no secrets. Whenever you're upset, or uncomfortable, come to me. I want to be there for you."

Keith relaxed in his seat, "Okay." He said softly, "And that goes for you too." He mumbled.

"Deal." Lance agreed, "Feel better?"

Keith smiled at their closed fingers, squeezing Lance's palm slightly, just as they pulled into the lot near Coran's shop.

"Much." He kissed their interlocked hands. Lance pulled them apart reluctantly, finger by finger, hopping out onto the crunchy gravel floor. Keith joined him so they were side by side, hands linked again after barely any time as they entered the shop and ascended the back stairs towards the small living space above.

The others were already there, bustling about at such speed it took a few moments before anybody noticed their arrival. Pidge was busy connecting a dangerous amount of plugs into sockets with Cat, while Matt and Shiro hovered by the window next to three perfectly poised cameras, fiddling with the zoom and the buttons. Hunk and Shay were darting about and covering the windows with black film so nobody could see in from the outside.

A tiny gasp left Keith as a fluffy grey cat slinked up to him, curling around his calf. 

"Hey Petra." He cooed as he scooped her into his arms, scratching her chin. Lance rolled his eyes, hauling his bag over to the nearest open window, where a large gold telescope was poised and pointed out towards the sea.

Keith's gaze swept over it carefully, before his eyes widened in clarity, "Is this...?"

Lance nodded, running his fingers over the shiny plated surface lovingly, "Yup. I was amazed when I learned it'd survived the fire. Coran lets me keep it here since we don't get a good view of the sky at our apartment."

"It's beautiful." Keith said honestly, as it truly was- perfectly plated and shimmering in the high midday sun filtering through the window. Coran's apartment was one of Keith's favorite places, quaint and quiet without all the bustle of the city, and as lovingly decorated as his shop. Photos were dotted all over the place, near the white quilted couch adorned with brightly colored pillows.

But what was most magnificent of all was the view of the San Francisco bay, the windows looking like an expertly taken photograph no matter which time of day you looked out, the moon or sun marking the ocean with white and yellow crystalline reflections that wavered in the water.

"They're here already." All eyes turned to Cat who was staring out the lens of one of Shiro and Matt's cameras. They shuffled over to her, huddling around the window. Sure enough there were five men clad in black hovering around the bay and the pier, clearly packing judging by their large leather jackets.

"Isn't the trade happening tonight?" Pidge puzzled.

"They're scouting out the terrain." Shiro mumbled.

"They're looking for _us."_ Matt elaborated.

Everyone returned to the positions in silence. Lance let Keith pull him onto the couch, keeping his legs still so Keith could haul his own tired legs into Lance's lap, purring like the cat in his own as Lance ran his fingers through his dark hair.

"It doesn't matter. Faith and Zarkon don't know of our association here, we'll be fine." Shiro assured them.

"Still, with more men this job is gonna be harder than before. They're expecting us to make a move." Shay pointed out, "They'll especially be on the look out for Keith and Lance."

"Then we'll just have to be more careful." Lance said firmly, "Nothing’s gonna stop us from completing this job. The people in that lighthouse are counting on us since the cops are so incompetent- no offense, Shiro."

Shiro waved his hand, "None taken." He said nonchalantly.

"What I'm saying is, none of it matters. We just have to focus on the mission." Lance finished, falling against the couch cushion.

"Fuck, you're hot." Keith mumbled under his breath, earning a smug grin from Lance.

Shiro contemplated for a second, turning his lip under his fingers before nodding earnestly.

"Lance is right." He said finally.

"God save us all." Cat murmured, making Pidge snort.

Shiro glared at her, "We should just focus on doing our job. Whatever happens, we'll figure it out. But for now-" He reached under the coffee table, pulling out a large stack of board games, "-I'm gonna kick your asses at Monopoly."

They all groaned collectively, as Cat released a pained whine.

"Come on, you know Keith's just gonna kick the board over as soon as he starts losing."

Keith reeled back, appalled, "I'm not _five-"_

"You can't shut down other people's hotel for poor plumbing Keith that's not how the game _works-"_

"Well then the game is stupid!" Keith huffed falling back against the sofa cushion.

"Alright then, no Monopoly." Shiro said weakly, "Cluedo?"

Cat scoffed leaping from her seat, "I can kick all your tushes at this."

Shiro furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, but which of us is an _actual_ detective here?"

"You're a newbie detective who tells state secrets to a bunch of random kids he picked up off the street." Cat shot back, "And I'm gonna win."

Lance shook his head, joining the two of them at the couch table, much to Keith's dismay whose legs fell off of his lap.

"You're both gonna loose- I have a two year winning streak." He boasted proudly.

"Playing alone doesn't count, hermano." Cat mocked as Shiro shuffled the cards fishing them out.

"Anyone else in?" He called as the siblings started to bicker. Pidge shrugged her shoulders, crossing her legs and sitting daintily on the floor.

"Whatever, just as long as Hunk makes lunch." All eyes turned to the looming Samoan in the corner of the room. Hunk frowned, already headed for the kitchen.

"What even am I to you guys?" He muttered gloomily.

"Big friendly food-making person?" Cat supplied with a grin as Hunk traipsed into the kitchen, adding, "Someone really should hug him at some point."

"I call dibs." Lance announced, receiving a slew of uncouth, judgmental looks, frowning, "What? He makes me feel safe."

"You have deep rooted issues." Pidge deadpanned as the game began. Keith situated himself behind Lance on the couch, fiddling with his hair and brushing his fingers along his shoulders and the tops of his arms. Every now and then a shiver would quake down Lance's spine, planted by Keith's warm touch.

"Stop distracting me." He mumbled as Keith leaned closer and closer to his ear to lightly press his lips against his hair line. He felt his lips smirking on his skin, reaching round to prod Keith's side, a place he knew Keith was ticklish. Keith squeaked and pouted, returning his hands to his lap but keeping his presence at Lance's back, probably to taunt him but it was more comforting, honestly, having him so close.

"Katie you can't make up rooms." Cat scowled at her girlfriend.

Pidge threw her hands in the air, "Well if somebody told me what the fuck a 'billiard' is I wouldn't have to."

There was silence for a moment as they all accepted that nobody knew what a billiard was, and probably never would. Pidge smiled in satisfaction.

They went on playing the pointless games for hours- a sweet escape from the weight of work. They talked and laughed, gathered around the table as a unit, a family. Coran slipped into the apartment later in the day after setting up shop, also jumping in on the havoc, just in time for Hunk to bring out an entire table full of food, lips tellingly kissed red and Shay's face smug and slightly dusted with powered sugar from one of the brownies.

They all piled around the table, elbowing each other out of the way to reach the enchiladas and brightly colored pitcher at the back of the table. Matt fed Shiro small spoonfuls of ice cream as they stared sickeningly at each other. But Lance didn't even have the effort to fake a gag anymore, just turning to stare fondly at the boy next to him shoveling ice cream into his mouth.

He was officially ruined for any other person. Every plan for the future Keith had shoved himself in, and Lance had no reluctance in letting him remain there, fitting in perfectly amongst his makeshift little family. He glanced around the table at them in silence, smiling as he observed the laughter and chatter happening at every corner of the table, conversations melding together into a warm, domestic buzz in his ears.

Even the colors of the room looked more vibrant than usual, though that may have been due to the glowing, late afternoon sun that blinded him whenever he glanced towards the window, rather than the lovesick haze floating in his brain.

Cat even went as far to pull out her phone, flipping back for hundreds of unbecoming photos of Lance as a child, rolling around, caked in mud and other questionable states of matter with a large grin on his face every time. Even the more recent ones of him as an angsty preteen, he wore a bright smile. Though not long after they morphed into a smaller and smaller stretch of lips, the date displaying the same time his parents and sister had passed.

But soon enough the grin returned, until the most recent photo Cat must have taken unsolicited fairly recently, Lance perched on a barstool with Keith situated between his legs, identical, devilish grins on their faces as they laughed, stopped in time.

"See, you brought my smile back." He murmured into Keith's ear once Cat had put her phone away, prompting Keith's cheeks to spring up bright red all of a sudden. He kissed the pink spots, raising up to help Shiro and Matt haul the plates and utensils over to the sink.

Evening came before they knew it, stealing the sun and bringing the moon, and more importantly- the stars. Keith wasn't surprised when he found Lance situated behind his telescope once he ventured out of the kitchen, leaning fondly against the door frame to take in the image of Lance bathing in the wavering moonlight dancing over his cheeks, reflected by the ocean and making his skin glow and eyes even bluer if that were possible.

"Find any good ones?" He said softly, as not to startle him. Lance turned slightly, eyes landing on Keith and a smile spreading on his lips.

"A few, yeah. Wanna see?"

Keith nodded, pulling up a chair besides Lance and settling comfortably at his side. This time Keith happily let Lance's hand slide into his, guiding his finger across the blanket of night. It was horribly adorable but Keith couldn't bring himself to care anymore. He sighed breathily as Lance stopped moving his hand, simply holding it in his own and kissing his fingers individually.

"I wish we could just stay like this." Keith mumbled, "Never have to work another job, just stay in this apartment and watch the stars."

Lance hummed releasing his hand to instead lean sideways, resting his cheeks on Keith's head, enclosing his body with his arms, "Well, maybe after this mission we could." He shrugged.

Keith looked up in surprise, "Really?"

Lance gave a small smile, "Now Cat is older, I've been wanting to go back to school for a while, and you could easily get a job as a training instructor, or you could even come to school with me." He kissed Keith's head, "Whatever you want."

"Could we really... leave?"

Lance rolled his eyes, "I'm not talking about skipping town and never looking back, idioto. Allura has been on my ass about getting a real job for years, she'd let us go." He reassured him.

Keith let his mind wander for a moment, eyes skipping around the room. He could envision a life like this one, in a small apartment by the sea, nothing but nights full of stars and Lance's kisses and days rich with Cat's giggles and Lance's eyes blending in with the ocean as they swam. It was a beautiful fantasy, he reasoned- but a fantasy, nonetheless.

"I'll think about it." He vowed, brushing a kiss against Lance's chin. That seemed to satisfy him as he took Keith's hand, pulling him over to the sofa Coran had helpfully pulled out into a double bed for them. Shiro and Matt had taken the spare bedroom, while Hunk and Shay napped on a mattress on the floor near the windows, letting the breezy late September air inside. Pidge and Cat had formed a pillow fort around the dining room table, and Lance could just make out their sleepy laughter from the next room over.

Dressing into fresh underwear and pajamas quickly, they slipped under the chilled sheets, instantly spooning for warmth. Keith wasn't sure who initiated the first kiss, but nothing could stop them once they started, clawing at each other as Lance timidly slipped him tongue inside Keith's mouth. He whined against him, making Keith pull off with a perplexed expression.

"You took your piercing out." Lance explained with a childish pout. Keith rolled his eyes, just pulling Lance's body back against his, perfectly satisfied with being kissed until they both fell into a deep sleep.


	19. Abracadabra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *don’t stop me now plays softly in the distance*

He flinched in his sleep, memories of bar smoke and flickering red lights taunting him as he dreamed.

_He wandered through the halls, dodging grabby hands and trained thieves, holding himself with dignity. That was the only way to survive this place. A familiar door loomed in front of him, neutral in colour but nothing could hide the darkness visible through the keyhole, curling out in wisps._

He clung to the warmth pressed against him, whimpering.

_It swung open before he'd even laid a finger on the knob, the only thing in sight a large brown desk, the man behind it obscured from view. He paced closer, fingers trembling._

Suddenly, a distant voice cut through the blurry haze of smog.

_"Keith."_

His mouth parted in a gasp as his mind went into overdrive, blindingly vivid as it formed a herd of looming bodies, surrounding him, penning him in.

_He cried out for help, feeling hundreds of hands on his body at once, tearing at his clothing, at his hair, even at his skin, leaving behind painful red welts._

_'This one's pretty. Take him out front.'_

His legs flinched as he bucked and kicked in the dream, unaware if he was screaming or not.

_"Keith!"_

_The voice sounded clearer, stemming from a bright white light in the peripheral of his vision. It was soft, yet urgent, calling his name and beckoning him towards the warm, heavenly glow._

"Keith, wake up baby, it's just a dream."

_He reached out, touched it, feeling his body pool with a burning heat and-_

He bolted up, breath leaving his body in short, harsh pants, flinching when warm, apprehensive hands landed on his back, caressing it tenderly. He exhaled when he heard Lance's voice in his ear, his gentle palms massaging the bare parts of his body, whisking away the memories of the filthy touches lain there.

"You're safe, it's not real. It was all a dream, Keith." Lance kissed the back of his head, pulling him back down under the covers. Keith gladly let Lance pull him against his chest, inhaling the familiar smell of detergent he associated with him.

Lance smoothed down his hair, combing blunt fingernails through the strands, the repetitive motion helping to anchor Keith to reality. Slowly the suffocating feeling of the nightmare slipped away, leaving him and Lance alone, safe and tucked under pure white sheets.

Gaining the movement of his limbs, finally, Keith slid his hands up Lance's bare biceps, squeezing the flesh there before twining them under his armpits, lightly scratching at the back of his shoulders. Their bodies molded together perfectly, Keith's lithe frame arching under Lance's touch on his lower back to press their chests together, his head secured beneath Lance's chin.

Lance held onto him tightly, brushing his lips over his forehead as he whispered, "Are you okay?"

Keith hummed, nodding into his chest, "I'm fine, now. Thank you." He murmured in reply.

Lance kissed his fingers, bringing his hand to his lips, "Whatever demons you've got up here," He stroked Keith's forehead, "We'll fight them together, mi amor."

Keith's throat was clogged like a honey jar as he pulled Lance's lips towards his with the hand on his neck, sliding his tongue against his boyfriend's desperately. Lance groaned into his mouth, pulling Keith even closer against him and thumbing at his waist, squeezing the thin, supple skin there. Ever so slowly his hand started to travel, slipping down from Keith's waist to the full, cream colored ass obscured beneath tight pajama bottoms.

Keith gasped into Lance's mouth as he pulled the cheeks apart, massaging them with sturdy fingers. Keith didn't even have to ask for his inner pleadings to be heard, one of Lance's hands slipping into his pants and sliding between the crevice of his ass, pressing over his hole neatly tucked in the center.

They moaned in sync as Keith sucked Lance's pointer finger in, still perfectly loose from their first time barely a day earlier. They were both half asleep so their movements were lax and clumsy, but before long Keith was naked, Lance's own half dressed form pressed into his with only the fabric of his shirt remaining on his body.

He carded his hand through Keith's hair, akin to the familiar breeze Keith felt whenever Lance put the top down, the other ghosting over his lower back. He nosed Keith's shoulder, kissing his skin, prompting a low, rumbling hum from Keith's chest cocooning his own with warmth. It morphed into a breathy chuckle when Lance's fingers brushed his sides, far away from where Keith wanted them most.

He tipped his hips back, giving Lance every indication of what he wanted, yet Lance's hands still remained plastered to his waist, lips mouthing at his neck and collarbone. He panted into Lance's ear, breathing his name pleadingly.

"We can't..." Lance murmured, "The others..." He trailed off, blinking his eyes open to carefully watch the sleeping forms of their friends on the other side of the room, well aware it would take just one, reckless moan from Keith to alert the entirety of the sleeping apartment.

"I'll be quiet," Keith vowed, snagging his teeth on Lance's ear, "I _need you."_

Lance shuddered as Keith whined into his ear, indicating the hand that had just left his hip was now much further down. He slipped his fingers to the curve of Keith's ass, unsurprised and getting harder by the second as he felt Keith's own fingers thrusting in and out of himself, thumb rubbing over his sensitive perineum.

"You're a fucking demon." Lance growled as he tugged Keith's fingers from his entrance, instead slowly pushing one of his own inside, pulling a sudden, needy gasp from Keith's lips.

"M-My bag." Keith swallowed, "I brought lube."

Lance rolled his eyes as he delved into the small black rucksack at the side of the bed with his free hand, finding a small label-less bottle nearer the bottom. He drizzled it's contents over three of his fingers, delving instantly back inside of Keith with two digits.

"F- _fuck,_ baby, right there." Keith panted into his ear as Lance plowed his fingers into him, scraping at his walls, scissoring them apart slowly. He had one leg hitched over Lance's hip, keeping them pressed together, warmth seeping through Lance's shirt to his own chest. With shaky hands Keith hastily removed the fabric from Lance's torso, instantly attaching his lips to the skin just below Lance's shoulder.

Lance groaned in small volume into his ear, ploughing harder and faster into Keith with those long, perfect fingers. Keith's breaths were nothing but tiny, desperate gasps, shuddering from his frame every time Lance came near his prostate, so, _so_ close, which he suspected was on purpose.

"Quiet." Lance murmured as a particularly loud gasp burst from Keith's lips, digging his nails into Keith's ass, only prompting him to release a high-strung whine that echoed around the room. Lance slapped the round flesh lightly, then covering Keith's mouth with his hand as a third finger breached him, wet with slippery lube.

 _"Nggh!"_ Keith's voice was muffled behind Lance's palm, but loud none the less, eyes flashing pleadingly as he blinked up at Lance, legs spreading as pure manifestation of what he desired.

"Do you _want_ everyone to hear us?" Lance perceived with a roll of his eyes, tugging his fingers out of Keith, swallowing the cry of displeasure he knew was coming with his mouth, kissing him tenderly with both his hands bracketing Keith's warm face.

He hauled Keith up by his thighs so he was straddling Lance's stomach backwards, spine arched as his hot cock came into contact with the cool night air. He turned to give Lance a confused look, slim neck wound as tight as a screw. Lance rubbed his hips, slowly pulling him backwards, until his hole was clenching shyly over Lance's face. Lance pressed his finger there, hearing Keith struggle to suppress his cry of pleasure as the tips of Lance's fingers snuck back inside, pulling his rim apart.

"Let’s see how quiet you can be." Lance smirked, "Sit back, baby, and every sound you make is another minute I don't let you cum."

Keith hesitated, eyes wavering as he desperately glanced down at Lance. Lance retaliated by shoving all his fingers right to the deepest part of Keith's hole, where that perfect bundle of nerves sat tucked away. He clenched, refusing to relent as Keith thrashed and muffled his cries through his palm above him, Lance's strong arm on his torso keeping him from escaping the overwhelming, persistent pleasure.

It was a miracle he didn't cum as Lance finally released the hold he had on his prostate, using both hands to get a good look at Keith's tiny pink hole, shining with a mix of precome and lube. It was inches away from Lance's mouth, tantalizing him with it's palpitations and shy little twitches.

 _"Sit."_ Lance urged feeling Keith shudder above him. He knew when Keith was at his limit, and that certainly wasn't yet, but still he gave his side a soothing squeeze, encouraging Keith to finally push his hips back. Lance smiled a little before taking control, Keith moving a little too slowly for his liking as he yanked his hips down onto his face, laving at Keith's opening with his tongue.

It was bliss, listening to the tiny squeaks of pleasure Keith released as he bit into his lip, desperately trying to muffle the whines and moans threatening to spill past. There was still the wet slurping sounds of Lance's tongue as it thrust into Keith, but they were easily disguised over Keith's heavy panting.

Ever so slowly, Keith started to tip his hips back in time to Lance's licks and gentle spears of his tongue, riding his face carefully, as not to suffocate him- that would be fun to explain to Shiro in the morning. No, he was slow, reveling in the wet sounds below him. Lance alternated between the tender licks around the rim and hard, penetrating thrusts that never failed to make Keith jump in surprise as he moistened the deepest parts of him. Lance kept him spread the entire time, making Keith feel the small burn of his rim stretching around the thick muscle. 

"L-Lance, I'm ready, I c-can't-" Keith whispered, cut off by two of Lance's fingers pushing past the barrier of his teeth into his mouth. Keith moaned softly, sucking and chewing on the digits. He jolted when Lance groaned, the sound bouncing through the walls of his hole up his spine to his brain, which went instantly hazy.

"G-Gonna cum- oh god _Lance_ I'm gonna-"

He practically mewled when Lance lifted his hips off of his face, wiping spit from his mouth as he settled Keith on his hips. Two fingers idly played with Keith's hole as he positioned them so Keith was pressed face down into the mattress, Lance's dripping cock positioned at the wide entrance readily. He held Keith’s legs together so he was lying straight, unable to move an inch under Lance’s weight.

"Not a sound." Lance reminded him as he thrust into Keith in one fluid motion, prompting a loud, breathy gasp from Keith's lips. Tears started collecting in Keith's eyes as he slammed his fist into the pillows, his legs unspread and giving no further accommodation for the thick length as it slowly slid into him, tearing away all the air in his lungs.

"That's it, such a good boy." Lance praised him, "You're so tight, does it hurt?"

Despite the shake of Keith's head, Lance reached around to caress his cheeks, pausing when he felt the wetness there.

"It's alright, baby, don't cry. You're doing so good." He whispered, "Do you wanna stop?"

Keith shook his head adamantly, collecting all the air in the room to gasp out, "J-Just- _big."_

Lance mouthed at his neck, pulling Keith's round, peachy cheeks apart to glance at where they were connected, panting against Keith's neck as he perceived the glorious sight.

"Do you wanna know how it looks? Cause baby I'm gonna cum just from looking at your hole stretched around me." He murmured, "You're so wide on my cock, taking me so well."

Keith shuddered from the onslaught of praise, clawing and biting at the pillow to suppress the undying urge to just scream out Lance's name, to slam him into the mattress and ride him until all thoughts of this ungodly, slow pace were a distant memory. The head of Lance's cock dragged that cool piercing in and out of him, scratching at his prostate and making him dizzy with pleasure.

"I-I can't, Lance, go _harder."_ Keith urged, tearing at Lance's hair. Lance held onto his belly and torso, pulling at his nipple and rubbing his hips, all the duel sensations gradually bringing Keith to his limit, promising the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.

"If I let you sit on my cock can you be good and stay quiet?" Lance mumbled into his ear, and Keith nodded without hesitation, sighing with relief when Lance pulled out of his tight channel and sat up against the couch cushions serving as a headboard, pulling Keith's hips so they were positioned above his cock.

"Be careful." Lance whispered, "Take it slow- I don't like it when you cry." He wiped at Keith's wet cheeks. Keith swallowed the fog in his throat, flying forwards to kiss Lance slowly with lack of grace, sinking back onto his cock with a gasp.

"G- _god,_ if I knew it would be like this I would have fucked you years ago." Keith breathed as he began the steady descent onto the steaming, pulsating flesh below him. Lance gnawed at his collarbone, creating marks that would most definitely still be there the next morning, digging his fingers into Keith's hips as Keith's arms came around his neck, nails scratching at his back.

"Bounce, baby, but stay quiet. We don't want anyone to wake up and see you getting fucked, do we?" Lance squeezed his ass, making Keith shudder as he started rocking back on him, hand splayed on Lance's chest to keep himself balanced as he leaned backwards.

"D-Does it feel good?" He swallowed, blinking down at Lance with eyes shot completely black in the darkness of the room. Lance bit his lip, nodding as he brushed his lips over Keith's nipple, holding his chest to his mouth with a free hand, the other slowly starting to pump Keith's cock dribbling precome onto his chest.

 _"Lance."_ Keith breathed between the kisses, grabbing tufts of Lance’s hair between his fingers as Lance’s crotch and his hips started to move faster, both chasing climax unabashedly. Keith squeezed as tight as he could around Lance, the fingers at his side biting in, a small growl sounding in his ear. 

"You're a tease Kogane." Lance hissed as Keith started a rambunctious pace, smirking against Lance's lips as he clenched on every downwards thrust of his hips, suctioning around the thick base of his cock. Lance bit into his shoulder fiercely, making Keith whimper as quietly as he could while concentrating on sucking a large, blooming purple mark into his skin, both to push Keith to his limit and to stop himself crying out in pleasure at the perfect heat enveloping his cock.

"I-I'm close." Keith whimpered into his ear, "C-Can I...?" He motioned to Lance's fingers. Lance obliged happily, pushing two digits into Keith's mouth, suppressing a wince when his boyfriend harshly bit down, at the same time his cock pulsed, painting Lance's chest a milky white. Keith went lax above him, mouth parted in pleasure, relinquishing control so Lance could flip him over, silently pounding into him to completion.

"That's it baby, I'm so close," Lance panted, "So perfect around me, squeezing so tightly. My perfect, beautiful Keith. I've got you, sweetheart."

The tears that had been collecting in Keith's eyes finally teetered past the border of his lids, so incredibly overwhelmed- both from Lance's careful, whispered words and the breathtaking sensation of his cock ploughing into him, insides spasming from the overstimulation and his cock still spurting cum.

It wasn't long before Lance was giving one final, brutal thrust into the hot channel of Keith's hole, spilling into him with vigor. He held Keith tightly to his chest, kissing his limp, sated body as he fucked him through his orgasm, finally collapsing onto him a moment later.

They kept their breaths short and as quiet as they could, hearing a small amount of shuffling from the other side of the room, a sure sound of Hunk turning over to pull Shay into his chest. Lance slowly pulled out of Keith, kissing away the painful puff of air Keith exhaled between them. He grabbed a t-shirt from Keith's bag, cleaning them gently before tossing the fabric back below the bed. Keith laid there quietly, waiting for Lance to scoop him into his arms so they could sleep.

Lance fully intended to, but first he retrieved Keith's pajamas from where they'd been tossed, gently tugging them onto his tired body, smiling softly as Keith's droopy eyes blinked up to him.

"Budge up, mullet." He whispered, collapsing into the place besides Keith to tug him into his chest, hooking their legs together. Keith sighed into his chest, feeling the most comfortable he had in a while, on a thin, lumpy mattress with Lance's hand tenderly combing through his hair.

"Thanks." Keith mumbled, moments before they fell into sleep. Lance chuckled into his hair, lifting his chin so their gazes met. He kissed him, channeling every emotion built up in his chest into the sweet joining of mouths. Keith hummed softly when they parted.

"Anytime you need me, I'm here."

Keith rested his chin on Lance's shoulder, those words sending him off into a much more peaceful sleep, undeterred by any nightmares his brain could conjure.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Cat kept her footsteps light as she softly padded out into the main room of the apartment. Small, steady breaths filled the air as Lance, Keith, Hunk and Shay slept soundly, each couple wrapped up in each other. As she passed she couldn't help but let her gaze wander over to her brother and his boyfriend, smiling fondly as she watched them cling to each other for warmth, Lance's lips pressed against Keith's head.

Judging by the heavy breathing and high-pitched whispering she'd been unfortunate enough to hear only a few minutes previously, she felt they deserved to be left to their sleep, tip-toeing past the couch through the wide arch of the kitchen towards the glass cupboard holding Coran's colorful mugs. The breeze filtering through the open window hit her soft skin familiarly as she quietly filled the mug with water from the tap, holding it in both hands as she sipped it into her parched mouth.

She enjoyed the cool night air that had settled in the room, letting it prickle against her bare legs and face, her nightgown allowing the wisps to curl around her thighs. There were muffled voices coming from the pavement from late-night passers by, as well as the clattering of what she supposed to be the fall of a handbag or a heel, hanging precariously off the fingers of a drunken clubber.

It wasn’t until she had almost drained the contents of her cup when she realized she could no longer feel any wind on her face, a quick glance towards the floor revealing a black, looming silhouette of a man’s body, averting all the moonlight that seeped through the window and casting her into spotty darkness.

Her eyes flitted to his face, shrouded by the night but fully intimidating as her mug clattered into the sink and she released a fearful squeak.

Her friends slept on in the other room, breathing peacefully as her own means of air were cut off by a large hand that covered her mouth with an infused cloth that reeked of pool chlorine. Her eyes watered before drooping shut, her plead for help torn from her lips by the barricade of sleep.

It wasn't till many hours later any of them realized she was gone. Hunk rose first, shuffling into the kitchen to make breakfast. His toes clenched from the chill as he reached the sink, eyes landing on the mug lying chipped at the bottom. He lifted it with a curious glance, shuddering as a breeze passed him, and he padded over to slam shut the open window that once filled the kitchen with serene sea mist, but now left the kitchen frozen, the floors damp and cold.

But before he even had his fingers on the pane he caught sight of the piece of paper fluttering in the windy morning air that floated in on updraft from the waves of the ocean, scrawled on in threatening red ink. As his eyes flitted over the words his heartbeat became more and more staggered, the paper crunching between his fingers as he skidded into the living room, yelling for help.

Lance and Keith were the first to jolt awake, rubbing their eyes wearily as Hunk called out to them.

"Jesus, Hunk what is it?" Lance groaned, fingers massaging his throbbing temple and eyes blinking open foggily. He found himself immediately awake, however, when he saw the petrified expression on his friends face and the ball of paper in his hand.

"It's Cat," He panted, catching every eye in the room. Lance took a sharp inhale of breath as Hunk passed him the note, hand clasping Keith’s tightly, before his breathing stopped altogether. He looked up at Hunk fearfully, his friend’s eyes filled with remorse as he whispered the next sentence.

"Faith has her."


	20. Tears in Heaven

Lance was the first one to move after Hunk spoke, leaping out of bed to tug on fresh clothes. Everyone else remained fixed to the spot, frozen in shock. Keith watched Lance steadily as he rushed around the bed in a frenzied manner, hands noticeably shaking as he shoved his belongings back into his bag.

It wasn't long before the others snapped out of their reverie, running hurriedly through the apartment in an orderly manner to retrieve their clothes and recoil-proof undershirts Matt had helpfully made for each of them. Pidge was stationary at the door to the dining room for a minute, glowering at the floor before slowly retreating to clean up the bed Cat had resided in barely hours before.

Keith slowly slipped off the lumpy mattress, watching his boyfriend with a keen, concerned eye as Lance stepped around him like he was a common obstacle.

"Lance..." Keith trailed off, aware that his voice would only fade into the white noise ringing in Lance's ears, instead grabbing for Lance's hand the next time he passed, halting his circulation around the apartment. Lance's fingers twitched in his grasp in effort not to yank his hand away.

He glanced down at Keith slowly, receiving an equally stern gaze right back. He swallowed as Keith rubbed his thumb over the ridges of his fingers.

"You have to think rationally." Keith said calmly, watching as Lance's eyes flared up in anger.

"She has my sister," He growled, wrenching his wrist from Keith's grip, "Rationality just went out the fucking window."

Keith huffed in frustration, stepping around in front of Lance before he could take another step in the opposite direction, placing his palm against his chest to stop him, "Lance she _wants_ us to attack now- if we wait till tonight and go ahead with the original plan there'll be less risk of losing somebody else."

"By tonight Cat could be _dead."_ Lance snarled, looming over Keith intimidatingly, "I'm not risking her life."

"Lance- would you just _stop-"_ Keith grabbed hold of his shirt as Lance tried shoving past him, holding him still as he spoke, "Faith isn't going to kill Cat until we're there to see it- she's her bargaining chip. She'd be an idiot to sacrifice the only leverage she has."

Lance's body trembled beneath Keith's touch, whether from rage or fear he was unsure, but he desperately wanted to cure it.

"She's the only family I have left, Keith." Lance said in a hushed, haunted tone, one that sent an expression of guilt rolling over the plains of Keith's face. He bunched Lance's shirt up in his fist, using the hold to pull him into an embrace.

"We're gonna get her back." He vowed, "I just need you to trust me."

Keith felt Lance swallow against the junction of his shoulder before nodding slowly, kissing the crook of Keith's neck and joining their hands. The others were already seated at the table in the corner, exchanging muffled conversation. Pidge still had yet to emerge from the dining room, though they could hear the distant sound of pillows being thrown across the room, sending ornaments crashing to the floor.

Lance and Keith pulled two mismatching chairs up to the table, sitting with the others in silence for a brief minute before Lance sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"This is your operation, Lance." Shiro spoke quietly from the other end of the table, "We're with you, whatever you decide to do."

Lance glanced besides him at Keith for the reaffirming gaze he was always in supply of, feeling fingers tighten around his own as he cleared his throat to speak.

"We're gonna go ahead with the original plan." He announced, feeling a collective exhale of relief around the table, "We'll strike tonight, and rescue Cat along with the hostages."

_"What?"_

They turned as a hostile voice traveled the length of the apartment, sprouting from the doorway of the dining room, where Pidge stood with her fists clenched, dressed all in black.

"You're going to _leave her there?"_

Shiro coughed, standing slowly, "Katie, it was very difficult for Lance to make this decision, so please-"

"Difficult my ass." Pidge scoffed, "You want to abandon her? After everything she's done for you?" She accused Lance with a fiery, wavering gaze.

Lance tightened his hold on Keith's hand as he turned to face Pidge with a weary, tired expression.

"This is in the best interest of everyone else-"

"She's your _sister!"_ Pidge shouted, "How can you just-?"

"Enough!" Lance slammed his palm onto the table, standing up haughtily, "Pidge do you think this is _easy?"_ His eyes were tilted in agony as Pidge's shoulders slumped, fists loosening so they were limp at her sides which was so, so much worse than any comback she might have had.

"Fine." She hissed, dragging a chair up to the table beside her brother, the metal legs creating an inane scraping noise across the linoleum, "But we wait no longer than ten hours."

"Deal." Lance nodded in affirmation.

"And you, Shiro and Keith aren't going in alone," She added, "Hunk and Shay can easily take out the front guards. The rest of us will go with you and Keith to rescue Cat and the hostages."

Lance glanced at Keith, who instantly nodded in agreement. Lance pressed his lips together before reluctantly agreeing in turn, bringing a triumphant flare to Pidge's face.

"Alright, so Hunk and Shay, you'll take out the guys out front," Hunk and Shay gave him a firm nod each, "And the rest of us will head inside. Rescuing Cat is our main priority, so if you get the chance, take her and run."

Lance saw Shiro open his mouth to protest, silencing him by raising his palm.

"Like you said, Shiro, this is my operation." Lance said firmly, "And in my operations, family comes first."

Shiro nodded in understanding, falling against the back of his chair.

"Then I guess all we have to do now is wait." Shiro said, raising out of his seat. Pidge rose with him, heading out towards the balcony.

They all disbanded slowly towards their own parts of the room. Shiro joined Matt on the couch, resting his legs on his thighs as they idly flipped through the channels on the TV, waiting for the hours to pass. At some point Coran came out of his bedroom, Lance's eyes latched onto him as his hand slapped over his mouth when Matt approached him with a soft tone to break the news.

With their encouragement, Coran went ahead downstairs and opened up shop. The flurry of by-standers would make it difficult for the Galra to spring any surprise attacks on them, and also serve as a suitable distraction for Shay and Hunk, who joined him to serve the customers.

Pidge remained out on the balcony as the time slowly ebbed away, watching the curling waves, drowned in thought while Lance and Keith retreated to the kitchen table. Keith held their clasped hands in front of them, every now and then kissing Lance's knuckles individually while they whispered assurances to each other.

The hours passed before they had even realized, sunlight melting away like a multi-colored popsicle turning into bland orange sludge, the brilliant purples and pinks fading away. They waited till eight o'clock, just after sunset, before slowly beginning to pull their almost forgotten weapons from their hiding places.

Keith approached Lance with the grey fabric of one of Matt's sweatshirts draped over his fingers, holding it out to Lance carefully.

"Wear it, just to give me some peace of mind." He uttered weakly as Lance took the material, slipping it on over his bare chest before donning a thicker, black shirt and hoodie.

"Here, hide this behind your back," Lance offered Keith a small pistol. Keith took it precariously, tucking it into the band of his jeans so the handle was pressed into his lower back, the cool metal making him shiver a little.

Lance took him into his arms, leaning down to finally kiss him, every drop of desperation gushing out of him in the forceful brush of lips. His strong grip around Keith's waist held him in place while he claimed his mouth, stealing away every breath Keith could give him.

"I-I can't promise I won't be distracted," Lance panted as they broke apart, barely a breath from each other's lips, "No matter how much I want to protect you, she is my sister. I have to get her back." His lips were remorsefully strung as Keith kissed them tenderly, their noses bumping.

"Don't worry about me- I'll be right behind you." Keith said firmly, "I've got your back." He whispered their silent pact once again into the space between them.

Lance's lips twitched in amusement, "We should really start saying what we mean." He whispered, sighing as Keith's fingers twined into his hair.

"But that's no fun at all." Keith grinned.

Shiro approached the couple with tender footsteps, scratching his arm as he cleared his throat, catching their attention.

"It's time."

Lance nodded, nudging his nose against Keith's temple affectionately, like a clingy animal. Keith smiled smally, squeezing his fingers a final time before allowing Lance to step towards the door where the others had gathered. They made their way down the stairs in silence, only the sound of their heavy footsteps ringing through the hollow hall. Coran was closing up shop as they passed, fingers curled into his chest fearfully, squeezing Shay's own as she stepped out from behind the counter, taking the slim blade Lance offered her and tucking it into her belt.

The pier was mostly abandoned, the shadows brought about by the lowly set sun providing them with a narrow, dark path across the rotting planks beneath their feet. The lighthouse loomed ahead of them, painted white and standing tall on the rocky shore, the large, unlit bulb covered by a garnished, wooden canopy roof.

Figures clad in black patrolled the roof, blades glinting in the golden hour light. Years of salty air had reduced the walls to a faded grey with some brick peeping through like worn off nail varnish. Lance could taste the brine on his tongue, blossoming over his taste buds.

He led them round a corner to duck behind a nearby cafe, the overhang obscuring them from sight with a dim shadow. He perceived the entryway to the lighthouse for a moment, before gathering them in a circle.

"There are five guys stationed at the entrance- Hunk, Shay, can you take them down?" He whispered.

Shay rolled her eyes, spinning her blade in her hand.

"Please I could do it by myself." She scoffed under her breath, standing from her crouch and cracking her knuckles.

"Alright then, you two take out the guards out front and the rest of us will go into the stairwell."

They nodded unanimously. Keith and Lance's eyes met from across the circle, Keith's brows worried and eyes filled with anticipation. Lance nodded at him firmly, itching to reach across and take his hand, to offer him whatever assurance he could within the ring of tension. But with his own hands shaking so uncontrollably he couldn't bring himself to grant Keith more concern.

Shay and Hunk slowly disbanded from them, cementing themselves to the side of the wall to peep around the corner. Shay's bright amber eyes flitted around in the darkness, fixing on the cluster of dark figures ahead of her. Clenching her fists she swooped out, bringing her forearm instantly to the back on one of their necks.

Hunk sighed, pulling his hood up, "Guess I better help- them, not her."

Lance watched on with a grin as Shay hooked her thighs around a guy's neck, twisting it and landing squarely in one swift movement, bringing him to his knees. Several strangled noises left their mouths as one by one they dropped, Hunk's sturdy fist knocking them out before they even had the chance to regain movement in their limbs. Shay’s deep mocha hair billowed behind her as she moved, braids swinging round her neck with every lurch of her body like furry chokers.

Hunk sighed as he was approached by a limping, snarling figure, grabbing his shoulders and kneeing him in the stomach, delicately lowering him to the ground beside his fallen comrades. Shay shook out her hands, smiling as Hunk kissed her bruised knuckle. She nodded over his shoulder at the others, who crouched low and darted over towards the entrance.

"You guys wait here for us." Lance murmured to Hunk and Shay, letting Hunk give him a firm, hearty pat on the back before pressing himself against the wall adjacent to the opening of the lighthouse.

Looking above him Lance could see the guards manning the highest point of the lighthouse retreating below, probably to warn Faith of their arrival. The stairs clattered inside, the metallic clang of footsteps hurriedly getting into position seeping through the moisture laden windows. Lance glanced up to the bare, unsheltered holes, where silver gun barrels winked at him tauntingly.

Lance turned to the four people behind him, "There are three guys above us on the stairs. We'll have to hide under the stairwell the moment we're inside. They'll be ready to shoot us down as soon as we enter."

Keith's eyes landed on him for a brief second, apprehensive and distressed. Again Lance had to grab hold of his wrist to stop it darting out towards him, instead offering Keith a reassuring look that seemed to calm him at least a little.

"On my signal." Lance whispered, raising his fingers. As the final form on the roof disappeared from sight he brought them down, darting through the entrance swiftly. Keith took a sharp breath before following him in, pistol clutched together in his palms sturdily.

The moment he stepped inside he was deaf with the sound of bullets ricocheting from the walls and the stairs, the wind whipping around the hollow tunnel in a howling scream. Lance yanked Keith beneath the stairs, sheltering him and Pidge as he aimed with his pistol between the gaps of the steps, a pained scream ringing out as a bullet entered the foot of one of the snipers.

"We need to get up there!" Keith yelled up at him, darting out for a millisecond to shoot the guy nearer the bottom of the steps in the arm, causing him to go launching over the railing onto the floor, where Lance kicked the gun from his hand and aimed another bullet for his leg, muffling his scream with his foot.

"Keith, watch out!" He heard Matt yell, a flash of brown hair reaching his peripheral as he shoved Keith to the side, barely dodging the stray bullet that had clattered from the inside of the window.

With precision Keith took out the other two men above him, dodging the heavy gunfire while managing to strike them both in the legs, giving him easy passage upwards with Lance and the others on his tail. Pidge was swift to kick their weapons from the edge of the staircase, binding their hands together and gagging them with a fierce scowl on her face.

"They should be through that door." Keith panted, gesturing to the wooden door at the top of the staircase. He cocked his gun, feeling Lance's warm palm land on his shoulder. Turning to face him he felt his heart beat a little slower, the soothing presence of Lance at his side helping to relieve him of the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream.

"You guys ready?" Lance looked around at them all, each giving him a firm, sure nod in response. Pidge raised her gun, mouth poised in a hostile, confident sneer.

"Let's get that bitch." She growled.

"I sincerely hope you mean Faith and not my sister." Lance said profoundly, raising his pistol as Pidge charged forwards, kicking the door open. Keith was bound to Lance's back as they advanced forwards to gather at the threshold of the door.

The moment the door swung open the only sound Keith could register was the loud, unanimous cock of guns, at least ten all trained on them as they perceived their surroundings. The room was large and round, wooden slatted flooring allowing them to look down at the bloodied staircase beneath them.

Keith could see three cages to his left, holding people squirming and quivering in place with their feet and hands bound. Their eyes were trained on the group in the corner, feet anxiously shuffling nearer to the doors of their prisons.

Faith was in the center of the room, a smirk painted on her face as the silver barrel of her gun reflected the moon into their eyes, creating a mottled pattern all over the walls and floor. Lance growled and took an apprehensive step forward as he observed his trembling little sister, tied to a seat next to Faith, the gun pressed into the side of her head. Her eyes glistened with tears, terrified noises escaping her mouth through her gag.

"You took a while, I'm surprised." Faith pondered, examining the firm grip Keith kept on Lance's forearm, keeping him from lurching forwards and strangling her.

Lance ignored her, shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he locked eyes with his sister, "Hey, hermanita, sorry we kept you waiting so long.” He said softly. “Just hang in there. We're going to get you out, I promise."

A fearful scream left her mouth as a bullet clattered off the wall next to Lance's head, making him falter for a second, wincing at the loud bang.

"You'll be lucky to get her _body_ out of here in one piece, Lion." Faith said curtly, "Now drop your guns- all of you." She locked eyes with Keith, pressing her pistol harder into Cat's temple, hard enough there'd surely be an imprint when she removed it- _if_ she removed it.

Ever so slowly they lowered their weapons to the floor, letting them fall in a collective clatter. A string of whimpers left Cat's mouth, her eyes squeezing shut. Lance cast a glance at Pidge fearfully as she stepped forwards, stretching his arm out to halt her steps. She shoved his hand away furiously.

"Look just tell us what you want and we can all leave." Pidge pleaded, reaching her hand out towards Cat, "Nobody else needs to get hurt."

"I want you to leave me _alone."_ Faith stomped like a frustrated toddler, "But since you seem unable to get my hint," She cocked her gun right against Cat's ear, making her entire body wrack with a shiver. Pidge let out a small, scared noise, fists clenching.

"No, don't!" Lance stepped forwards, "Just let her go and we'll be out of your hair."

Keith's fingers trembled in place where they held his arm, body ready to move into action the moment he needed to.

"Why do that when I could just kill you all instead?" Faith reasoned.

"You tell me." Lance shot back, "You must have a reason for keeping us alive, for taking Cat hostage- just tell us what you _really_ want.”

Faith locked us with him, face stony as she dragged her gaze up and down his body. Keith's eyes locked onto Lance's fingers as they crept behind his back, tapping on the base of his spine.

Keith swallowed, the cold touch of metal on his back suddenly evermore prominent. Slowly Lance detached Keith's fingers from his arm, squeezing them before taking steady steps forwards.

"Whatever you want." He said in a softer tone, "Just let her go."

Faith smirked, unbeknownst to her or her crew that Keith's fingers were slowly creeping up his back, pulling the gun from his waistband.

"How about that pretty boyfriend of yours?" She cocked her brow, making Lance freeze in his advance.

"No way." He snapped.

"Not even to save your sisters life?" Faith bargained, head tilted as she leaned down so her breath ghosted against Cat's ear, "All I need is a plaything for my guards- they get so restless sometimes."

Lance's face contorted in disgust, the reassuring sound of metal clinking against Keith's rings behind him egging him on, "You mean to torture me using my family? _That's_ what you want?" He realized.

"You _are_ smarter than you look." Faith's smile was small and taunting, "Zarkon was right."

Lance fell silent, glancing away from his sister to meet Faith's gaze.

"Zarkon's interested in me?" Lance cleared his throat.

Faith chuckled, "Obviously. You're the great guardian of The Lions, his greatest enemies. He’s wanted you dead for a long time."

"Then why use my family to get to me?" Lance demanded to know impatiently, "Why not just take me instead?"

"Lance-" Keith stepped forward, halted by Lance's hand.

”Torturing you would be meaningless. We aren’t stupid- the only way to hurt you, Lance McClain, is through your family.” Faith countered.

"Let Cat go, and I'll go with you willingly." Lance offered, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

Keith watched as Lance's fingers twitched, tapping the waistband of his jeans. He swallowed thickly as he tucked the newly released pistol into his boyfriend’s pants, in a similar position as it had been in his own, handle jutted out for easy access. Lance's hand returned to his side discreetly, a smirk crawling onto his lips.

"Or I could just kill all your friends and take you by force." Faith shot back.

"Don't be stupid - Shiro's a cop. If you kill him there'll be an ongoing investigation. Take me, and there'll be no need for further bloodshed."

Keith's heart skipped a beat as Lance cocked the gun peeping out of his waistband. He glanced aside to Pidge, then to Shiro, who were also focused on the gun. Pidge was slowly moving to her boot to retrieve her blade, reminding Keith of the thin metal also a heavy presence in his pocket.

She gave him a nod, focusing back on the scene ahead of her. Keith could sense the fury pulsing through her veins, turning them an even more vibrant blue and making her brow twitch. He felt her eagerness, and it spurred him on, too.

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer." Faith's mouth twitched and Lance's heart began to pulse, seeing her finger twitch on the trigger, "I think I'll just kill her instead."

 _"NO-!"_ Lance shot forward, hearing his teammates yelling in fear behind him as yanked the pistol from his jeans, striking Faith in the shoulder, wincing as she released a scream of pain and fell to the floor.

The others began to move instantly, bullets flying in every direction as Faith's men began to fire. Pidge ducked under their legs, slicing up their ankles and tossing their guns over to Shiro and Matt, while Keith skidded over behind Cat to untie her, squeezing her trembling fingers.

"Son of a-" Faith screeched as Lance ducked, a stray bullet from her gun skimming his hair, he growled, aiming another steady shot for her leg, glowering at her as she cried out as the bullet wedged itself in her shin.

"Stay down." He instructed her, "Or the next one will go through your fucking head."

She snarled at him, trying to hoist herself up but her attempts proving fruitless.

Lance's gaze snapped to his sister, her hands no longer bound thanks to the steady slice of Keith's blade, her lip trembling between her gag.

"Está bien ahora, cariño..." He kissed her forehead, slowly pulling the spit sodden cloth from between her teeth. The moment her mouth was free she started to cry, yanking Lance in for an embrace. He shushed her as she sobbed into his shirt, Keith wordlessly cutting her feet free from the legs of the chair.

Lance heard Matt grunt as he kicked the feet out from the final man standing, crushing his fingers beneath his boot mercilessly. Strangled screams and garbled groans created a perfect mosaic of sound, albeit muffled by the blood running through Pidge's ears as she joined Lance at Cat's side.

"Cat!" She almost toppled her girlfriend over as she hooked her arms around her waist. Cat was crying in relief, one arm around Pidge and one around Lance as they crowded her between them. Keith squeezed Lance's free hand in relief, giving him a tender smile as Lance's gaze slid over to him.

Suddenly there was a splash, and the loud roar of a boat engine from below, forcing them to halt their reunion. Keith stuttered a breath as he glanced over to the window, where an abounding trail of blood led and disappeared over the edge of the window.

"Lance! Faith is-!" He gasped as he sped over to the sill, down to the rocks and the waves below. The front lights of a boat could be seem in the near distance, speeding towards the jagged mantle that held the lighthouse.

"That's the boat! It's the Galra!" He pointed over to the sleek black boat coming to a halt next to the end of the pier. Dimly, he could see a figure being hauled from the waves onto the deck, her wet hair sticking up every which way.

"That's the boat they were gonna use to transport the hostages." Pidge mumbled, glancing over at where Matt was burning through the heavy padlocks on the doors of the cages in the corner. He whispered assurances to the trembling older girls, while Shiro clung to the hands of a little boy and girl cowering in the corner through the bars.

"What the fuck do we do now?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Faith sputtered as she was carelessly dropped onto the dark wood of the deck, creating a steadily expanding puddle of water that seeped through the floor beneath her. Shadows darted around her figure as she struggled to catch her breath, her blood mixing with the glinting, dark water, spiraling into a fusion of black and scarlet.

Slowly she glanced up, fixed with cold, golden eyes that never failed to make her shudder. At last she caught her breath, stumbling upwards, relying on the wall of the boat for strength.

"You've failed me, _again."_ Zarkon's booming voice rung out across the deck, sending his muttering minions into silence. Faith wouldn't meet his gaze, wincing as blood continued to pour from her shoulder and leg. She held onto her bleeding flesh with her free hand, glancing between the soggy strands of blonde hair plastered to her forehead.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, "The Lions have taken the hostages."

 _"Again?"_ Zarkon growled, "I provided you with twenty men- you're telling me they took down all of them?!"

"If it weren't for those damned vigilantes-" She growled.

"Who was it?." Zarkon growled, stepping to her, "The one who shot you?"

She glared up through her fringe, blood crackling and the air around her tinted red as she bit out, "The one you warned me about."

Zarkon reared his head, fists clenching as Faith's next words left her mouth through grated teeth.

"Lance McClain."


	21. Can't Fight This Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooo guess who finally used the Klance anthem in a title.

They were silent while Lance tore at his hair, eyes flashing with rage as he watched the boat disappear through the late night fog.

"She escaped. How could I fucking let her _escape."_ Lance growled, tearing at his hair as the boat took off in the opposite direction.

"It's not your fault." Shiro told him from across the room, "She would have slipped from our grasp some way or another."

"I should have killed her." Lance scolded himself, feeling a small amount of pressure around his fingers as Cat squeezed his palm with her own.

"That's not who you are, hermano." She said weakly.

Lance looked at her apologetically, her weight heavy on his arm as she relied on him. He stroked through her matted hair, looking up to fiercely meet Shiro's gaze.

"She needs a doctor- we have to get her back to Altea."

Matt stepped forwards, nodding, "I'll take a look at her. I called Hunk, he's brought his van around out front."

"Shiro, call the precinct and get some cars down here to take them home." Lance instructed him, receiving a firm nod in return. The hostages were silent in shock, but a few managed to offer wavering smiles and muffled ‘thank you’s as Lance passed, Cat cradled in his arms.

"What do we do now?" Keith murmured at his side, Cat slowly drifting off in Lance's hold.

Lance shrugged gingerly, careful not to jostle the girl in his arms, "I don't know. But this won't be the end of it- she'll come back for me. She'll use you and my family to torture me until one of us is dead."

Keith grabbed onto his arm, thumbing the flesh there softly, "It won't come to that. We'll put them all in prison before anybody else can get hurt."

"We have no way to know where they'll be next." Lance looked at him desperately, "We're sitting ducks until they decide to strike, and by then hundreds of people could have been shipped off." He said as he lowered Cat into the passengers seat of Hunk's van.

As soon as his arms were unlaboured Keith's fingers twined around them, soothing their shaking as best he could with steady, smooth caresses of his hands.

"We'll figure it out." He assured Lance with an easy smile, watching the tense strings of Lance's forehead relax, "We just have to be patient."

Lance sighed, resting his forehead against Keith's, bathing in his warmth and security. His fingers danced over Lance's shoulders, brushing the base of his neck. Lips inches from each other, they were forced to halt when a small whimper left the slumbering girl in the seat behind them.

Lance turned in Keith's hold, stroking Cat's cheek with two of his fingers tenderly.

"It's alright, cariño, you're safe." He whispered as her eyes opened a crack, swimming with unreleased tears.

"They were talking about mami and papi." She croaked out, "Lance they knew everything."

Lance's words caught in his throat, brows tangling together.

"Wh- how?" He stuttered, "Cat what did they say?"

But she had already fallen into a fitful sleep against the back of seat, the blanket wrapped around her not a centimeter out of place despite her twitching limbs and the quivering digits of her fingers.

"Lance..." Keith's mouth was parted in shock.

"Let's go home." Lance swallowed, turning to look at Keith tiredly, "Will you come home with me?"

Keith swallowed, nodding his head as their hands joined and Lance tugged them across the pier that would soon be flooded with red and blue lights, escorting Keith through the shadows to his car. He collapsed into the passenger's seat wordlessly, dropping the keys into Keith's lap.

Keith itched to reach out and touch him, but instead opted to slot the key into place, revving the engine before skidding out of the lot, unaware of Lance's eyes on him the entire time.

They were about halfway home when Lance got the call from Shiro, informing them they'd arrived at Altea, and Cat was alright. It seemed to unwind him only a little, his brow still strung out thinly and his lip mottled from the indents of his teeth.

He didn't utter a syllable to Keith the whole way home, even as they pulled into the lot of his apartment and Keith helped pull his tired, bruised body from the car. He kept a steady hand hooked around Keith's shoulder as they padded up the stairs to his apartment.

Keith waited as Lance shakily opened the door, kicking it open with his foot. He stayed frozen at the threshold, feet rooted into the fluffy carpet as the door creaked open. It was quiet in the halls, and even more so inside the apartment Keith had grown so used to being filled with the sounds of joy and life. Now it was barren and dark, haunted.

"She should be here." Lance grumbled, "I should have just taken her home."

Keith followed him wordlessly towards his bedroom where Lance tossed his shirt, shucking off his clothes and stretching out his screaming limbs. Keith leaned against the door frame, worrying his brow.

"Matt and Pidge will take care of her. You were right to let her get checked out." He padded up to him softly, kissing the dimple that had formed between his shoulders, twining his arms under his armpits to squeeze at the tanned flesh bracing his neck.

"She was so scared." Lance whispered, feeling Keith swallow thickly behind him, "The last time I saw her like that..."

Keith bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as he held onto Lance tightly, their bodies trembling in harmony. Sliding his arms down he took hold of Lance's hand, tugging it lightly in the direction of the bathroom. Lance followed after him, taking in every feature of Keith's face- his nose, his mouth, his slanted, concerned brow, committing them all to memory.

Keith kicked his jeans off as he pulled the shower door open, welcoming the warmth of the water on his skin as he released a steady flow from the shower head. Lance slumped against the sink, watching him intently as he pulled off his shirt, bracing his hands at Lance's hips and pulling him into the cubicle. It was a tight fit, their chests a hairs length from each other as the curtain of water enveloped them.

Lance sighed, resting his head on Keith's shoulder as he lifted a sweet smelling shampoo, lathering it up in his hands before carding them through Lance's hair. He could feel every breath Lance released in his ear, even more so with their close proximity, setting his skin alight. He massaged his fingers into his scalp tenderly, guiding Lance under the stream of water to wash the suds out of the glossy strands.

Lance kept their eyes locked together as he squinted through the droplets obscuring his view. Water had always brought him some bit of peace, but right now he just wanted to look at Keith, brush his fingers over the upturn of his nose and his soft lips.

Keith's mind seemed to be following the same sort of path as his, as only seconds later he pulled Lance's face down to his, connecting their lips smoothly, the water assisting their slide together. Lance grabbed hold of his waist, their bodies fitting against each other like stray puzzle pieces as he pulled Keith into him. His fingers were firmly in place, nails creating little moon shaped trenches in his supple skin.

 _"Keith."_ Lance breathed out between them, pushing Keith against the chilled wall of the shower, holding him in place with the entirety of his body. Keith was barely breathing at the same time he was panting desperately, the neutral taste of the water suddenly becoming tangier as sodium blossomed over his tongue. His eyes cracked open and focused on the tiny pearls of moisture dribbling down Lance's cheeks, springing from his eyes.

"Lance, _Lance."_ He whispered as Lance started to shake, his lip's movement becoming more and more lax as he fell against Keith, tucking his face into the weld between his neck and collarbone, tears silently collecting into a salty lake in the dimples near his eyes.

"Shhh," Keith whispered, combing through his hair, "It's okay."

His arms shook with the force of Lance's shuddering, only encouraging him to hold on tighter, fingers tangled in Lance's hair and lips pressed together into a sympathetic line as he choked back tears of his own. Lance murmured apology after apology into his skin, deterred by a sharp tug of his hair and a small whispered _'stupid'_ in his ear.

With deft fingers Lance took his turn rubbing shampoo and conditioner into Keith's hair, slicking it back out of his face, kissing away the droplets collecting in the divot of his lips. Keith reached up, cupping his cheek and rubbing away the moisture surrounding his eyes, shot with scarlet to the point the whites were halfway gone.

"I think I'm kind of in love with you." Lance whispered against his face, his breath tumbling off the tilt of his chin to gather with the wisps of steam girdling them.

Keith's mouth was slightly parted, the corners upturned as his breath caught in his throat. He framed Lance's face with his pale, trembling fingers, running his fingers down his cheeks, swallowing and thumbing at the little bones wound tensely beneath his skin. He kissed Lance's neck, attacking the flesh there uninhibitedly until a bright, purple mark wound up there, Lance's moans bouncing off the surrounding walls. 

"Me too," Keith breathed between kisses.

"Guess we finally started to say what we mean, huh?" Lance smiled softly, hearing a breezy laugh leave Keith's lips.

Without delay Lance shut off the water, tugging Keith out of the shower, wrapping him in a large white towel. He scrubbed at his hair until the slightly damp strands were frizzing up in the moisture laden air, barely able to tie his own towel round his waist before Keith was shoving him out into his bedroom.

He fell against the bed with a muffled chuckle, backing up against the headboard as Keith advanced on him like a predator, crawling up the bed to claim his lips in a wet kiss. Slowly he lowered his body against Lance's, propped up by the headboard. He placed a final, transient kiss to Lance's jaw before turning over onto his back, settled between Lance's legs with his back pressed against Lance's bare chest.

Lance blinked in surprise as Keith's hair was suddenly in front of him, his boyfriend curled up against his warm chest like a cat. Keith's eyes fluttered between open and closed as he found himself suspended in an almost-sleep, the heat emitting from Lance's skin providing his own personal radiator.

"Boner killer." Lance mumbled, carding his fingers through Keith's hair sweetly. There was a phantom of a smirk on Keith's lips, quickly whisked away by a small, satisfied hum as Lance scratched at his scalp. The niggling feeling of an idea rattled around his head as he started collecting the strands of Keith's hair, separating them into individual channels.

They caught the moonlight perfectly, turning into liquid mercury in Lance's fingers. He smiled contentedly as he began to twine the locks together, folding them over each other neatly.

Keith glanced up at him curiously as Lance braided his hair, scooping the black locks into a thick plait, even managing to herd his fringe into the bundle. He could just see Lance's smooth fingers fiddling with the thin hairs out the corner of his eye, working expertly, as if his muscles had committed the movement to memory. Noticing Keith's inquisitive gaze, Lance brushed his cheek, smiling at him.

"I used to do Cat's for school every day." He explained, "It's kind of fun."

Keith's eyes fluttered closed serenely as Lance continued to comb through his hair with his fingers. He could feel himself drifting, the soothing feeling of Lance's fingers, of his smell, of his warmth, filling him with a comfort he didn't even know he was capable of.

"I'm not gonna let them take you." Lance murmured down at him, capturing his attention once again. This time when he glanced up all air of tenderness had disappeared, Lance's face serene and stoic.

"I know." Keith reached up, stroking Lance's bottom lip with his thumb.

"I can't come that close to losing someone I love again," He kissed the digit, Keith's other fingers shortly in tow, "I won't let you get hurt."

Keith turned in Lance's arms so he was on his knees, inches from his face.

"Ditto." He breathed, connecting their lips with a moan, hair tumbling over his shoulder, braid still mostly in tact- at least until Lance tangled his fingers in the soft, drying strands, picking apart the carefully constructed plaits. Before Keith could seize another opportunity to slip away Lance encircled him with his arms, crushing his body against his own.

Using the grip he had on Lance's neck Keith hauled himself onto Lance's lap, towel around his body slipping loose as Lance's hands traveled the length of his body, grabbing his ass, squeezing the flesh so it spilled between his fingers. Lance met Keith's tongue stroke for stroke as they slowly started to grind together.

Keith's breath left him as shudders as Lance created fresh purple marks on his neck and jawline over ones previously faded, nipping and biting at the flesh till they blossomed. He reveled in the pain of Keith's fingers yanking at his hair, a fruitless attempt to ground himself as Lance took him soaring into cloud nine, dick hard and eyes barely able to remain open.

He whined, pelvis stuttering as Lance thumbed at the head of his cock, teasing it with his fleeting fingers, panting softly into Keith's ear as he took a hold of the steaming flesh, jerking his hand up and down in two swift movements. He squeezed Keith's hip as he convulsed from the stimulation, swallowing thickly as one of Lance's hands strayed to the crevice obscuring his hole from sight.

He gasped quietly as Lance pressed the digit of a finger against the neglected opening, hole shying away from the gentle touch before he had a chance to enter him. Lance refused to relent, using his thumb and finger to push his cheeks apart, exposing Keith's ass the the cold breeze in the room, only making him convulse further as Lance circled it with his middle finger.

"Lance, we should- _nggh!"_ Keith panted as Lance started to kiss at his chest, biting at one of his nipples to sharply cut him off.

"No- no talking, just... just be with me, okay?" Lance pleaded, sated when Keith finally nodded, prompting him to flip him onto his back, forcing out a surprised shout he was sure would be heard by his neighbors.

Then again, they'd be hearing a lot worse that night.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

She hadn't expected her sleep to be all that peaceful that night, yet when her phone rang at two am Allura couldn't resist the irritated huff that broke past her lips. Opening her eyes blearily, she could see the illuminated screen of her phone announcing Shiro's call, the sound blaring out into the otherwise silent room.

A hand patted her drowsily, "Would you just pick it up?" Lotor groaned, shoving the pillow over his eyes.

She laughed breathily as she disconnected her phone from it's charger, sliding the green button and balancing it against her cheek, too tired to even use her hands.

"Shiro? What's wrong?"

_"We've just gotten back to Altea- we faced a few... complications."_

She shot up, clutching the covers to her chest. Lotor slowly rose with her, giving her a worried glance.

"What _complications?"_ She hissed, cold as ice.

 _"Faith took Cat- it's alright, we got her back."_ He quickly interjected, sensing a loud outburst fit to come through the receiver, _"We've brought her back to Altea. We also managed to save all the hostages, the only thing is..."_

"Spit it out, Shiro." She scowled.

He took a breath, _"Faith got away."_

She dropped the phone onto the mattress, covering her face with her hands. Lotor picked it up, gingerly pressing it to his ear.

"Hello, Shiro?"

He heard a rustle, _"Is she coming to kill me?"_

Lotor chuckled, "No, thankfully you will not lose your life tonight. We'll meet you at Altea tomorrow, alright?" He eyed his girlfriend who was biting furiously at the tip of her thumbs, knee bouncing atop of the comforter.

_"Alright. Take care of her."_

"Of course." Lotor affirmed, shutting off the call and tossing the phone aside.

"Princess?" He said softly, brushing the skin of her forearm. She sighed, falling against his shoulder.

"She got away." She breathed, "We have no more leads, you've been compromised, and there's no way Lance will let Keith take any more blows for information- and neither will I. We're out of options."

He kissed her forehead gravely, fingers carding through her coffee colored locks.

"We just need to figure out his next move. Surely Lance and the others will know _something,_ we'll just have to be patient, and do what we can tomorrow."

"I don't know," She bit her lip, "I feel like this has grown beyond us now. We could have lost Cat tonight, and if we lose Cat, we lose Lance. And if we lose _Lance..."_ She trailed off, rubbing her brow with two forefingers, "All it would take is one life for this entire thing to fall apart."

"Then we'll make sure no lives will be lost." He said firmly, earning a perceptive glance. He rolled his eyes, "Come on, have _faith."_

She sucked at her teeth, shaking her head, "I don't know. I have a bad feeling about all of this."

He nodded, "So do I, princess. We'll just have to be cautious." He stroked her hair affectionately, "Now come back to bed, okay? We'll figure all this out tomorrow."

She sighed, falling back against her pillows, letting Lotor cradle her against his chest. A few soft kisses and she was gone, drifting away, yet still that niggling voice in the back of her voice remained, taunting her dreams till she was restless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The true boner killer? Me.


	22. Dancing in the Dark

The majority of the next day was spent with Keith pressed up against Lance's chest on the couch as they binged on junk food and their favorite movies. Lance indulged in braiding Keith's hair again, Keith finding he enjoyed it more than he probably should. Lance stationed himself behind him with Cat's hairbrush, trying all sorts of styles until he settled on a single braid sprouting from Keith's fringe, tucked into the rest of his hair bunched into a ponytail.

They didn't leave the front room for hours, eating their meals on the couch, tossing pieces of food at each other and kicking each other’s shins playfully, letting the hours trickle by nonchalantly. By the time their fifth Disney movie had rolled to a close it was late afternoon, and they were due to meet the others at Altea. It took immense effort for Lance to get Keith off the couch, and he sensed it had been far too long since Keith had been able to have a day off like this, to waste the hours with senseless things that brought him so much joy.

They dressed each other carefully, sharing kisses and bathing in the golden afternoon glow seeping through the windows, casting the room with shafts of sunlight that glittered in their irises. When it finally came time for Lance to pull Keith's shirt over his head, he found his hand hovering gingerly near the fading scar on his waist.

"Does it still hurt?"

Keith shrugged as Lance slipped his red t-shirt over his head, knuckles brushing the marred skin as they pulled the fabric down, making him shiver.

"Not really. It'll ache every now and then, but it's nothing I can't handle."

Lance cupped his cheeks, fingers dancing over the careful, black braid tightly held in place with a hair band. With his fringe out of the way it revealed the sharpness of Keith's cheekbones and chin. He was unmistakably carved like a warrior, but there was a roundness to his cheeks and his eyes were inquisitive and bright, rather than honed and focused like usual. The persona he bared to the world slipped away when he was with Lance, exposing a raw, bespoke uniqueness Lance knew he could search for in the other 7 billion people in the world, and never find again.

"Let's go meet the others." He kissed Keith's exposed forehead, adjuring to the front door to slip on his boots. Keith was in the bedroom for another few minutes, joining Lance with his tongue noticeably sucking at his teeth.

Lance groaned as he caught sight of the damned glittering ball in Keith's mouth, a smirk sneaking onto Keith's lips as he brushed his tongue along the seams. Lance clutched at his chest as Keith sauntered past.

"Oh no, it's happening again," Lance said in a mockingly panicked voice, "I can't stop it Keith, it's too strong, your hotness, it's _killing_ me."

Keith rolled his eyes as Lance fell to the floor, convulsing like a fish out of water. He crossed his arms, kicking at Lance stomach lightly until he stopped his ministrations.

"Stop goofing around- we're already late."

Lance glared at him, "You know what you did, demon."

Keith screeched as Lance grabbed onto his waist, attacking it with quick ministrations of his fingers, tickling him till he was wheezing and his neighbors probably supposed he'd been killed. He thrashed until Lance let him down, punching at his chest.

"Do that again and I'll hold out on you until you die." He glared, cheeks adorably flushed as he panted. He flinched and glowered at Lance as he poked his side on last time before darting towards the stair case away from him.

Keith sprinted after him, pouncing on his back just as he reached the top of the stairs, smirking as Lance screamed, clutching at the side of the wall so he didn't fall.

"Are you trying to kill me?!" Lance yelled as Keith hopped off of him, hopping down the stairs two at a time.

"No sex for a week!" He called over his shoulder, ponytail whipping at his cheeks as he watched Lance's face fall with a smirk.

"Hey, you don't mean that, right?" Lance yelled, panic lacing his voice.

"No jacking off, either!" Keith added.

"Keith c'mon you're joking, you can't be serious- hey wait!"

Keith waited smugly in the passenger seat for Lance to launch into the car, flushed and glowering.

"You, are, the _devil._ And considering how many of my boners you've slaughtered I feel you owe it to their families not to kill any more."

Keith tried to suppress his chuckle, cementing his lips together in a thin line, but the shake of his shoulders and ungodly snort of laughter gave him away, making Lance smile with triumph.

"Fine," He gave in with a humored sigh, "But tickle me again and I'll shun you for life."

"Deal- not that you'd be able to go a week without my dick anyway." Lance added nonchalantly, seeing Keith shake his head bemusedly beside him.

Revving the engine, Lance turned the radio on, hollering as Mambo No. Five filled the car and most of the lot surrounding them.

Keith's face was stoic and passive as they sped down the highway, hands pressed over his ears as Lance yelled along with the lyrics.

"A little bit of Keithy in my life, a little bit of Keithy by my side, a little bit of Keithy is all I need-!"

What was worse was that halfway through Lance put the top down, prompting concerned, alarmed looks from cars around them as they passed by. Keith mouthed apologies at them as Lance gleefully brought the song to a close.

"You and me gonna touch the skyyy!" He laced their fingers together, kissing his knuckles as he screamed the final lyrics. Keith's lips were pursed by tellingly tilted into a smile.

"You have no shame." He shook his head turning his attention to the window as they arrived at Altea. He spotted Cat at the window, her eyes lighting up excitedly as she spotted Lance's conspicuous car.

"Cat!" He pointed enthusiastically, grabbing Lance's attention immediately. Lance's face broke out into a wide grin as Cat came sprinting out of the bar, leaping out of the car to run towards her.

"Hermanita!" He caught her in his arms, "Are you okay? Any scratches?" He fussed over her, cupping her cheeks and noticing a ghost of a bruise over her lip.

"Matt sorted me out, I feel fine." She patted his arm, smiling her beautiful, familiar smile. She grinned wider as she spotted Keith, giving her brother a sly look as she wrapped him in an embrace.

"Honestly I almost _died_ and you two still couldn't keep it in your pants?" She scolded them, pulling away from Keith to see him grimacing bashfully.

"Ay, watch your mouth." Lance batted her head, "You're making him uncomfortable."

"I should have just told you I was dying, _polla."_ She sighed with a pout, rubbing at her throbbing head.

"Has Hunk got the jukebox going?" Lance asked, hearing music pouring from the bar.

"Please no, I don't think I can take another minute of your singing." Keith groaned.

"You love it." Lance leered, grabbing Keith's hand to drag him into the bar. He spun around, mouthing a pitiful _help_ to Cat, who raised her hands up in a helpless motion as she followed them in.

The bar was mostly family; Pidge was situated behind the bar per usual, the sound of Matt working ebbing from the stairs while Hunk and Shay wiped down tables. Allura's door was open, and Lance could hear her, Shiro and Lotor mumbling softly to each other.

"Lance! Keith!" Hunk's face lit up with a smile as he caught sight of them, his girlfriend spinning abruptly, an equally blinding grin on her lips.

"Heya buddy." Lance patted Hunk's back as the large man wrapped him in a tight hug, seeing Keith and Shay embracing out the corner of his eye, "Hunk, _tight-"_

Hunk released him sheepishly, a smirk gracing Keith's mouth as he watched Lance wheeze. Lance side eyed him coyly.

"I'll tickle you again."

Keith's smirk fell into a frown.

"Are Shiro and Allura fighting?" Lance puzzled, hearing the voices in the office raising in volume by the second.

Hunk sighed, scratching his head, "Kind of... she's mad that Faith got away."

Lance frowned, "But that was my fault- why is she yelling at Shiro?"

"It's more that he didn't tell her Cat had gone missing until after the mission." Hunk patted his shoulder, "Don't worry about it, she's just stressed that we lost our final lead."

Lance bit his lip, sensing Keith approaching him from behind. There was a tick of silence as the inconspicuous melody flooding from the jukebox came to an end in a perfect cadence, a loud click sounding before a familiar sequence of instruments began.

Lance smiled immediately, spinning to Keith who flinched in surprise.

"What?" Keith cocked his brow apprehensively as Lance stretched his hand out, a grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat's on his face.

"Dance with me?" He reached out his hand as the chorus of L.O.V.E began, the smooth jazzy baritone of Frank Sinatra soaring through the air, warmly filling his ears.

"Wh- in front of everyone?" Keith glanced around, slipping his hand into Lance's nonetheless, albeit hesitantly.

Lance smiled, leading Keith over to the square, wooden dance floor at the foot of the jukebox, squeaky clean from Shay's heedless hours of nightly mopping whatever questionable fluids had been spilled by tipsy patrons who could barely hold their own footing.

"This is embarrassing." Keith mumbled as Lance pulled him in close, starting to sway as Keith humbly tucked his head under his chin, using his chest to shield him from view from the others around them. Lance had one of each their hands clasped and slightly outstretched, slowly rocking them along with the music. Keith's hand was hesitantly wrapped around his waist, keeping Lance pressed to him to hide his florid complexion.

Ever so softly Lance hummed along to the words in his ear, his voice relaxing him a little, enough he could start to spin. Now they were dancing, Keith realized, feet shuffling as they rocked and turned in a makeshift slow dance. Lance had his cheek resting against the side of his head, humming contentedly as Keith pulled back, hair tickling Lance's chin as he glanced up, locking their gazes together.

"Heya." Lance said softly as Keith let him sway their bodies in time, eyes unguarded and crinkled slightly from the tilt of his lips.

"I need to get something off my chest." He blinked slowly, Lance slowing them in their movements as Keith gazed up at him uneasily.

"Is it your shirt? Please let it be your shirt." Lance pleaded, prompting a rough punch aimed for his bicep.

"I'm serious, Lance." Keith said sternly, "I know this was a game for you, at first. Hell maybe it still is, but I just need you to know..." He took a breath, exhaling it against Lance's chest, "I like you - a _lot_ \- and I hadn't planned to, but I do. So if you're not in this, _all in,_ then please," He looked at him imploringly, "Stop this now."

Lance's breath was stolen away all of a sudden, like Keith had taken every insecurity that had been running through his mind and fired it right back at him, ruthlessly without any hesitation.

"Jesus Christ, Keith." He halted their slow dance, diving down to kiss Keith with abandon, taking every breath he had to offer in a fruitless attempt to regain his own. Keith's hand slid through his hair, down to his neck where he held delicately onto the flesh. His back arched perfectly with the pressure of Lance's palm, and all of a sudden Lance itched to take him home, to see how well he could bend in the bedroom.

"How long have you been thinking all this?" He breathed sincerely, hands bouncing as Keith shrugged under his touch.

"I don't know- I guess I've been worried all along that this has been more temporary for you than for me."

Lance shook his head, taking Keith's hands in his.

"Mullet this has never been a game for me." He insisted fervently, "I've wanted you since I can remember. Whatever you want, Keith, I'll give it to you."

Keith swallowed earnestly, forehead connecting with Lance's as he breathed.

"You. I want you."

Lance grinned, seizing Keith's hips to spin him, watching Keith's mouth part in fear and surprise as he found himself resisting gravity all of a sudden. He sealed Keith to his hip, arms encompassing his waist with his toes still a few inches from the floor.

"Then you're stuck with me, baby. Promise you won't regret it later?" He grinned.

Keith shook his head tenaciously, "Never."

The last few beats came to a close and Keith sighed, connecting their lips as Lance slowly let him back to the ground, arms winding around his neck. His vision was spotty no matter where he looked other than Lance's face, in perfect proximity and so warm beneath his finger tips.

In the white noise of the background he suddenly heard a struggle, and a loud yell from the back. He pulled away from Lance curiously, glancing over his shoulder just as Allura sprung from her office, eyes wide and braids flying as she screamed.

_"FIRE!"_

Keith and Lance gazed at her in disbelief as she, Shiro and Lotor came flooding from the room.

"Wha- _where?!”_ Lance yelled as he and Keith ran towards the bar, gathering the few patrons occupying the bar near the exit.

"The-!" Allur began just as the windows to blew through, glass shattering and pelting them with sharp shards. Keith grabbed hold of Lance, pulling him out of the way of the nearest windows as flame began to lick through. Lance arms flung out towards Cat and Pidge, shielding them behind him.

"Someone threw a molotov into the yard- it'll reach the gas soon, we've got to get everyone out!" Allura yelled over the growing crackling sound of the fire bollards, sealing every exit near the back of the bar.

Lance clutched Cat and Pidge's hands to guide them towards the exit while Keith hurried the patrons over to the door.

"Keith, come on!" He yelled over his shoulder as orange began to glow in his peripheral, the fire growing exponentially due to the worn wooden floors and furniture, burning the green curtains to a crisp.

"I have to go get Matt, he's downstairs!" Keith shouted back, "Go outside, I'll be out in a minute!"

Lance sucked at his teeth, shouting in surprise as a beam groaned above him. He was too far away to grab Keith, and Keith was too stubborn to give in, so he reluctantly shuffled back, fists clenched.

"Be quick- I'll wait outside!" He ordered.

Keith nodded, silhouette disappearing into the smog. Keeping a firm grip on Cat and Pidge Lance gathered with everybody else outside the bar, sirens blaring somewhere in the distance, alerted by the black billowing cloud hovering over the bar.

If only Lance had just taken the opportunity to look back, he might've spotted the hulking shadows following Keith into the smoke, their hands balled into fists around long metal pipes.

Lotor held Allura close as she watched her home collapse in front of her, hand clutching the pendent strung around her neck. Her large blue eyes wavered with resentment as her knees shook, barely holding the weight of her body.

Lance kept his eyes glued to the entrance as he waited for Keith to emerge, hearing heavy footsteps behind him as Shiro's boots crushed the gravel into dust.

"Where's Keith!?"

Lance whirled around, "He went to get Matt, I couldn't stop him!"

"He _what?_ Matt's already out- you think I would have left him in there?" Shiro gestured behind him to where his husband stood, holding their daughter close as she cried. Lance's heart stopped it's thrumming altogether, mouth parting and closing like a fish as he flung his gaze back to the door. Seeing Lance's feet shuffle in place, Shiro reached out to grab him.

"Lance sto-!" He barked as Lance sprinted towards the door, quickly heading in after him.

"Shiro are you crazy, what are you doing?!" Matt hollered as Shiro disappeared in after him, clutching Grace to his chest as the flames threatened to spill over their only means of escape.

Despite the illuminating light of the fire, Lance could see jack all as he entered the bar, the dust and smog making his eyes tear up with resistance within seconds. He weaved between the embers and fallen beams of the structure, holding his shirt over his mouth to filter out the toxic air.

His heart leaped when he spotted a figure hunched up in the center of the bar near a table that slowly being enveloped by flames, coughing as a particularly large nebula entered his mouth.

"Keith!" He cried skidding down next to him on his knees. His face was marred with soot and thin, red cuts, suspiciously akin to the imprint of a blade, rather than a fractured piece of wood. Keith blinked blearily, heartbeat stuttering out of time as he caught sight of Lance's bright blue eyes, filled with panic.

Lance... please you have to leave-"

"No fuckin' way." Lance growled, "Come on, I'll carry you."

"You _can't."_ Keith implored, and it's then Lance caught sight of the silver chain wrapped around Keith's torso, like a python enveloping it's prey in a fatal embrace, binding Keith to the table leg.

"What? _Who-?"_

"Lance!" He heard Shiro bellow, a glance over his shoulder revealing him hurdling over the beams towards them.

"Shiro, Keith, he's-" Lance choked, gesturing to the chains desperately.

"Keith who the hell did this?!" Shiro's eyes went wide as he tugged at the chains, pulling a cry of pain from Keith's lips, the chain creating red circular imprints on his torso.

Keith eyes locked onto something behind them, filling with fear. They heard a dark chuckle behind them, and Lance's heart filled with spite.

"You son of a-" He spun around, away from Keith, Zarkon's large had catching his fist before it collided with his face.

His blood ran ironically cold when a cool barrel pressed into his skull from behind him. Shiro shook with fury beside him as he locked eyes with the pale haired assailant.

"Anybody ever tell you not to turn your back on what you love?" Faith drawled into Lance's ear.

"Anybody ever tell you you're a _coño?"_ Lance snarled as he turned to glower at her.

Shiro stepped around her slowly, crouching down next to Keith, smoothing his hair from his eyes as he struggled to stay awake. Keith gazed up at Lance desperately, despite all the smoke and pollution running through his veins, making every flinch or whine feel like fire.

”Lance, the smoke- he won’t be awake much longer.” Shiro warned him.

"You're coming with us." Faith announced, cocking her pistol in Lance's face.

"Like _shit_ is he going with you." Shiro growled, "Let him go."

"Woah, Shiro, you kiss Matt with that mouth?" Lance joked weakly, glancing at Faith, "Why should I go with you?"

"You're dumber than I thought if you don't know that." Faith kicked his shin, bringing him to his knees, eye level with the gun as she pressed it into Keith's neck.

"You can go with us freely, and the other two can leave, or Faith will blow your boyfriends head off, and we’ll leave him and your friend here to burn." Zarkon presented the ultimatum.

"Deal." Lance said immediately, turning to glare at Zarkon, hearing Keith's choked refusal behind him.

"Lance are you fucking _insa-"_

"Let him go." He demanded. Zarkon reached into his pocket, retrieving a small, silver key, kicking it over to Shiro. As soon as he was free of his chains Keith lurched towards Lance, held in place by Shiro's strong grip around his middle.

"Let _go!_ Lance don't you fucking _dare-!"_

"Shiro, take him out." Lance ordered, keeping his gaze level with the floor as Shiro lifted Keith from the ground. Keith's screams rang loudly in his ears, but still he refused to watch as Shiro dragged Keith towards the entrance.

"Lance you _bastard_ you _promised-!"_ Were the final words that left Keith's lips before the door was blown shut by a gust of smoke, blocking Keith from sight. Despite the gun aiming for him and the smoke clogging his lungs Lance felt himself relax, the tight grip Faith gained on his wrists pinching, but not enough for him to care.

"I've waited for this a long time, guardian." Zarkon boomed as Faith bound his wrists, hauling him up and towards the back door.

"Sorry, bastard, but I'm not into big dicks." Lance seethed, teeth cringing as a thin blade sliced at his hands.

"So quick witted- we'll see how long that lasts." Zarkon smiled as he stepped over Lance, batting his hand to motion Faith to kick his heels, prompting him forwards.

Only a hundred feet from him Keith was being held back by all but Matt, who held his palms over his daughter's ears.

"Papa..." She whimpered as Keith's raw screams broke past the barrier of his hands, legs twining tighter around his hips. He shushed her, eyes meeting Shiro's, filled with fear as he clutched Keith tightly against his chest, just as the roof of the building collapsed, the fire reaching the alcohol lining the shelves and setting the entire building and porch alight.

Keith screamed Lance's name as he watched the only home he'd ever known burn to the ground. Allura clung to his arm, holding him in place as her tears fell silently into his hair, eyes squeezed shut while Lotor clutched her hand.

A black van skidded out from the lot, wheels grinding against the gravel as it swung around the crowd of bodies, missing Cat by a hair as she thrashed in Pidge's arms.

 _"Lance!"_ She screeched after the van as it disappeared down the highway, her tears catching on the wind as she flung around.

"We have to follow them!" Keith yelled.

"If they see us they'll kill him!" Allura grabbed hold of his forearm, stopping him in his tracks.

"He could already be dead- we have to _go!"_ Cat insisted.

"Cat when you were kidnapped it took _everything_ Lance had not to go after you," Shiro said pleadingly, "But he held back cause he knew being reckless would cost more than just your life."

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do, Shiro?" Keith growled, shoving at his chest, "Sit around and wait for them to dump his body on our doorstep?"

Shiro caught his arm in the air, glaring at him with enough force Keith keened, exhaling his frustration and glaring at the floor.

"We need a plan." Shiro announced, "Keith I promise you we'll get him back, but I can't let you put your life in danger too." He gazed at Keith imploringly.

Keith’s jaw trembled as he fixed Shiro with a teary glower.

"Fine." Keith wrenched his hand away, "But if he dies? It's on _you."_

Keith stormed away, Shiro's gaze trailing after him as he ducked into Lance's car, slamming his fists against the wheel, lips moving in an undetectable curse.

"Are you okay?" Matt approached him slowly.

Shiro turned to him, face grave as he looked at his husband and his daughter, her large, innocent gaze fixed on him.

"Get her home." He swallowed, "Meet me back here, we're gonna get Lance back."


	23. Hungry Like the Wolf

As soon as Faith had kicked him into the van, his vision had been shrouded by a blindfold, hands bound behind his back as his butt bounced uncomfortably on the wooden bench beneath him, the van beginning to move over the stones. As they left Keith and Cat's voices reached his ear, screaming out his name, and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself bounding through the van doors towards them.

As far as he could tell, he was alone in the back of the van, the closest sound of human life ebbing from the front seat, where two of Faith's underlings mumbled to each other. At some point he heard Keith's name slip past their lips, making his fists clench in their binds. But without his sense of sight or touch, any attempt of escape was fruitless, especially with Faith and Zarkon following them in a car closely behind.

He strained against the rope bound around his hands, blood running over the wrought material from his wrists as it sliced into his skin. His nose was musty, filled with the scent of the cloth covering his eyes and brow and in the almost blackness of the back of the van his eyes strained through the tiny slit at the bottom of the cloth for some sight of what was to come. Bolt cutters, scissors, and his own feet. He couldn't see further than that.

He huffed, resting his head back against the cool metal wall of the van as they ambled along. Time was fluid, the blindfold giving no indication of where the sun was. The only light came from the spill of headlights through the cracks in the van door. He tried to picture Keith's smiling face, his soft lips and gentle touch. He imagined his fingers carressing his cheek smoothly, his voice whispering assurances in his ear. It calmed him a little, at least, the ghostly feeling enough he finally stopped struggling, the ropes around his hands settling into the bloodied trenches they'd left.

He didn't know what time it was when they stopped - minutes, hours, days - it was all versatile in his mind, inebriated with shock and stifled by remnants of smoke. He flinched when the doors were wrenched open and a fist closed around his wrist. He squirmed trying to shrug it off, his struggling in vain as he was dragged from the van across what was surely tarmac, judging by the way it grazed his knees through his jeans.

His kidnappers grunted as they pulled him inside a building filled with cold air and deep, rumbling conversation. It didn't cease when he was pulled in, if anything the patrons of whatever building he had entered become more excited by watching his body be heaved down some stairs and into a room that was stark and silent, his rough exhales bouncing off the walls as echoes.

"Where the hell am I?" He growled as he was thrust into a wooden chair, splintered and scratchy against his thighs, his wrists and ankles bound to the arms and legs. He wondered if this is how Cat felt, cold and alone with only the company of her breath and cries for help. It boiled his blood as easy as water, thoughts of the ones he loved in his position, beaten and bloodied, clinging to life. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he silently prayed they wouldn't come for him. But knowing his hot-headed boyfriend, it was unlikely.

He froze when the door opened with a clang, heavy footsteps advancing on him. Thick fingers wrapped around his blindfold, pulling it away from his face roughly, a few weary blinks bringing Faith's face into focus.

The room around her was mostly a stale grey collection of quarry rocks, lined with wooden racks that one day must have held wines, judging by the dusty barrels collected in the corner. There were ancient brackets for candles every few feet, but so long since used there wasn't a hint of wax residue on them. The only light in the room flooded from the door behind Faith, casting shadows from her figure as it spilled past.

Wincing as he glanced up at the stunted ceiling, his eyes caught on a long broken bulb dangling above him, shards of glass sat lifelessly on the floor, the wire rusted and crumbling, and it smelled musty, most likely from an excess amount of water - they were near the river, he realized.

"At least let my eyes adjust before putting her in front of me." He groaned as he observed Faith’s lips pull into an incandescent scowl.

"I'd shut your mouth, every word is another minute taken from the time we let you live." She growled, pulling his head back, looming over him like a slobbering cartoon dog.

"You really need to work on your dirty talk, sweetheart." He drawled, wincing as she planted a stinging slap round his cheek, feeling his skin burn and tingle where her hand left it's imprint. His head was already pounding, the sudden contact of hand on cheek sending his mind into a tizzy.

"You know I was going to let that boyfriend of yours live, but now, once I've killed you, I'll bring him as a gift for my men for them to do whatever they want with. He really is such a pretty little thing." She cooed, eyes flashing as Lance growled up at her, lurching on the bench to which he was tied.

"If you lay a fucking finger on-"

He winced, cut off as a thin blade left a deep cut down the side of his temple, gritting his teeth to stop himself screaming. Faith had the smile of a sadist as she bled him, releasing her grip on his hair only to knee him in the stomach, winding him with the sharp bend of her leg.

Lance barely had time to open his mouth in response before he was abruptly punched in the face, a trail of blood running from his nose and collecting in the crevice of his dried lips. He spat the metallic tang away with a grimace, glancing up in time to see Zarkon motion the fuming girl away.

Lance glowered at him as he kneeled so they were level, resisting the urge to spit more blood into his eye. He kept his face passive, stoic enough that not a glimmer of emotion broke through.

"It's been too long, guardian." Zarkon began, pushing Lance's hair back and yanking on it firmly, sending sparks of pain through his scalp as he observed Lance's bloodied face, "You’re so much like your father- you have his eyes, you know."

Lance's eye twitched, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Zarkon boomed a laugh, "Surely you've figured it out by now- I know you're not as stupid as some may think."

"Thanks." Lance said bitterly.

"Even your little sister seemed able to comprehend it- of course she was half conscious, too out of it to remember, but she seemed to understand well enough at the time. The girl would _not_ stop crying." Zarkon flicked at dust on his shoulder, lips pursed.

Lance's hands clenched around the arms of the chair and he lurched forward, missing Zarkon's forehead by half an inch.

"What the fuck did you tell her?" He seethed.

"The truth, Lance. The truth about your parents- they didn't die in a _fire,_ and you've always known it, haven't you? You were young, sure, but not young enough to completely forget."

Like a 1960s film reel, images started filtering through his brain in a barrage - blood spattered up the walls, his sisters head cocked at a gruesome angle - glimpses he'd blamed on his overactive imagination until this moment. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, bringing each memory surging forward to the front of his mind, each more horrific and vivid with the colour red than the last.

"You." He croaked, eyes peeling open to glower up at Zarkon. Zarkon cocked his head, a sickening smile spreading over his face.

"Your parents were shippers, as you already know. They were in charge of some shipments we were using to smuggle our... _goods_ across the border."

Lance was seething in his seat as Zarkon told the story of his parent's death so nonchalantly, itching to punch him until he bled.

"But they had an ally in the police- a friend of yours, Shirogane."

Lance froze, mouth parting, "S-Shiro knew my parents?"

Zarkon smirked, "He was the younger brother of your father's best friend. When your parents discovered we we're smuggling using their shipments they were going to go to him- I didn't want to kill them, but I really didn't have a choice."

"You killed my parents for a _shipment?"_

"They felt nothing, of course. I did it in their sleep, but your sister- well that was unfortunate. She caught us leaving your parents room, covered in their blood. She would have given us away, so we had to shoot her. Of course then we'd ruined our chances of being discreet, so we set the fire to cover our tracks. We were certain you and your sister were dead- until I found out about Shirogane's new protege, the notorious guardian."

"We were children." Lance growled, "Our sister, our parents- they didn't have to _die."_

"Maybe not- but now you definitely have to." Zarkon shook his head, as if this seriously brought him pain, raising front his crouch.

"But first I'll hand you over to my men. You've put a lot of their friends in prison, so forgive me if they're a little rough." He motioned over his shoulder, urging five men into the room. Their hands were wrapped around bludgeons and blades, each reflection of the moonlight in the metal sending a shiver down Lance's spine.

"I'll be back later."

Lance glared after him long past his exit, bracing himself for the next few hours. Spitting a mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor, he turned his gaze to the seething men surrounding him, glowering up at them from beneath his lids.

"Bring it on."

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Shiro feared for his door as Keith stomped up his driveway, kicking at the flimsy wood until it opened. He and Matt winced, stepping over the threshold, separating so Shiro could tuck a sleeping Grace into bed. Keith trudged into the kitchen, downing a pint of water at the sink, knuckles white as he clung to the counter.

The others all slowly sat down at the kitchen table, faces pale and filled with concern as they watched his head fall between his shoulders. Cat and Allura sat in shocked silence, their partners rubbing at their shoulders and kissing their hair to keep them chained to earth.

Keith, however, was at the breaking point of patience, stomach filled by a five-course serving of rage that tasted bitter in his mouth. He should have killed Zarkon and Faith when he had the chance- now he could lose Lance, _Lance,_ possibly the only person who'd made him feel safe since he was eighteen years old.

His teeth were beginning to ache from grinding too hard against each other, his hunched form and clenched fists exuding an animosity like acid- burning, slicing and potent. He couldn't wipe the image from his mind, of Lance's eyes turned away from him as he was dragged further and further away from the only man he'd ever wanted.

He was angry, _furious,_ even, at himself for not being strong enough to resist the fire but more so at Lance for pushing him away. Most of all, the person he couldn't bear to look at was-

He turned slowly, formidably as he heard Shiro's footfall approaching from the base of the stairs, fixing him with a glare as he came to a halt at the door of the kitchen. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his neck.

"Keith-"

"You shouldn't have taken me." Keith seethed storming over to face him, "Why the _hell_ did you do that?!"

"Blaming this on Shiro won't bring Lance back." Matt grabbed his shoulder, pushing him back, "You would have been killed if you'd tried taking down both Faith _and_ Zarkon."

"He just left him there! We could have gotten him back," Keith slammed his fist against Shiro's chest, hand trembling, "Now he's gone."

"No he's not, Keith. I promised you we’d save him, and we will." Shiro insisted, "Look I have an idea of where Zarkon took him. It's risky, but if we come up with a plan we might be able to get him back." He sucked at his lip.

"Where?" Cat stood up, "Wherever he is we have to try."

Shrio scratched at his scalp, dragging his palms over his face. Keith could see the war he was raging with himself behind his eyes as Matt grabbed his wrist, gazing up at him.

"You sure you wanna tell her? Now?" He said softly.

Keith cocked his brow, "Sure about what? Shiro where the hell is he?" He demanded. Shiro looked older, all of a sudden, his brow wound up as tightly as a jack-in-the-box fit to explode, his eyes graver than Keith had ever seen them.

"Cat." Shiro glanced at the trembling girl, "I'm sure Lance already knows this by now, but I need you to be sure- do you want to hear it?"

Cat glanced up at him solemnly, "It’s about my parents, right? I heard the guards mention my their names when I was captured..." She visibly swallowed, "I don’t remember much. But if you know something, whatever it is, I wanna know too."

Shiro dragged a chair to the table, joined by Keith and Matt a moment later, Keith's butt perched at the edge of his chair, leaning in closely. He blinked in surprise as Cat's thumb smoothed over his palm, loosening the tight tendons so she could fit them together.

"It was years ago- you were only ten. You were told your parents died in a fire- but it's not true. I know it isn't. Days before they died they'd discovered a hoard of drugs in one of the shipments they were in charge of. They'd just managed to get the message to me, the same night of the fire."

"Y-You think someone _murdered_ my parents?" Cat's fingers dusted her lips in shock.

"I know it." Shiro nodded solemnly, "I wasn't sure at first, but months later, at your parent's will reading, I was left your father's journal. He'd been tracking the activity of the Galra and their smuggling for months- that shipment wasn't the first, and probably wasn't the last, since the writings of a dead man weren’t enough evidence to arrest him. But as soon as I realized Zarkon was involved I was convinced- your parents and your sister didn't die in an accident."

 _Zarkon_ killed them?" Cat's breath ghosted past her lips, eyes glazed over like honey, sticky with tears and mist.

"So where do you think he took Lance?" Keith said quietly, careful not to speak too loudly over the stream of tears Pidge tried dusting from Cat's eyes.

Shiro stood, "A few years ago I went back to your house," He looked at Cat, "I wanted to see if I could find any more evidence, but it'd been completely rebuilt into a bar. I tried anyway, but the people there seemed..." His fingers twitched as he grasped for the words, "Sketchy. They wouldn't let me look inside and as soon as I flashed my badge they practically slammed the door in my face. So I did some investigating and found out Zarkon was a regular there."

"The bastard bought the house to rub it in their faces and turned it into their base of operation." Pidge growled resentfully, grabbing onto Cat's hand to squeeze it comfortingly.

"Do you think Zarkon took Lance there?" Keith's eyes glistened.

"I'd put my money on it." Shiro nodded.

"Then lets _go."_ Keith sprung up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

"Keith it's the Galra's _main base,_ we can't just charge right in there." Pidge scolded him with a frown.

"The longer we wait the more likely Lance will die." He scowled at her.

"Keith, Pidge is right- it'll be crawling with Galra. Just give us half an hour to come up with a plan that won't get us all killed." Shiro firmly clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in request.

"I know how you feel, Keith. He's my brother and I want him back as much as you. But we have to keep a cool head." Cat pleaded him.

"Keeping cool isn't really my forte." He admitted lowly, sinking back into his chair nonetheless.

"If it were one of us Lance would already have thirty plans to get us back- how are we meant to do this without him?" Cat bit her lip as Pidge twiddled her thumbs, mouth twitching with dissatisfaction as her brow knitted itself together.

"Lance was the one who taught me what I know. There's no way we can come up with a plan as good as his." Hunk rubbed his neck sheepishly.

Keith's eyes flashed with a spark of an idea and he sat up in his seat, gaining everyone's attention with his sudden enthusiasm.

"Then why don't we _use_ what he taught us? Lance was the best strategist out of all of us, if we use his ideas I’m sure we can make a plan that doesn’t suck." He suggested.

They all looked around at each other, exchanging precarious shrugs of reluctant agreement. Keith smiled in satisfaction as Shiro turned to him.

"It's worth a shot." He bit his lip, "But it'll be risky."

"He'd do it for us." Allura stood surely, "He'd charge into the Galra base without a plan or weapon for any one of us. We owe it to him to at least try."

Matt shrugged, "Well guys I guess that settles it- the problem is where the hell do we start with a mission like this?"

They all glanced at each other in stark silence, ancient cogs and wheels beginning to turn, groaning in their heads as they mulled over ideas. Keith's mouth twitched as his belt dug into his back, scratching against his skin- and suddenly it hit him.

He bit his lip, eyes sparkling with confidence, "It's risky... but I think I have an idea. If it works then not only will we get Lance back, but we could put the Galra away for good."

All eyes were fixed on him, Shiro taking a deep breath before nodding in agreement.

"Bring it on."


	24. Livin' On a Prayer

He came to with a thudding headache, eyes squeezed shut to suppress the pain. His head was pounding so hard it felt like it was being crushed between two sturdy palms, squeezing tighter and tighter. His body lacked normal filters, so that every sound, even the electricity in the walls, screamed into his ears with such abandon it made his eyes water.

He bit out a curse, glancing at his hands to inspect the damage. His shirt had long since been torn apart, red welts and long, thick imprints of his assailants blades becoming more and more painful the less incapacitated he became, the exposure to the wet, open air forcing him to bite his tongue and grit his teeth. He tried moving his fingers, except they didn't move- his legs too, were immobilized, screaming with every flinch he attempted.

How long had he been out? His mouth was parched and his stomach growled, lips feeling like they were crumbling as he ran his tongue over the bloodied flesh. He was blind in the darkness, restrained by the ropes binding his aching limbs, helpless to even scream for help with the way his throat lacked moisture, and the remnants of smoke burned painfully every time he tried. He was as good as dead, a lamb awaiting slaughter, poultry breathing it's last lungful before a bloodied hand stole it away.

The blood flowing through and out of the lacerations of his arms and legs made it barely possible to move, the ropes tightening around his pulse as he tried to wrench his arms free, feeling the strings dig into his flesh, sawing in deeper and deeper till they drew blood. He winced in pain, squeezing his eyes as he tried to struggle his way out, to no avail. The air invaded his mouth as he gasped in pain, the stuffy air tainted with the metallic taste of blood mixed with salt. It invaded his mouth, causing him to gag.

_Keith..._

It was the only thought that gave him the strength to keep fighting, but every hour that slipped by he felt his confidence faltering, and he wished more and more they wouldn't come for him, that they would stay far away from the lingering danger.

His strength was beginning to fade, now. He drew in a ragged breath, inviting the foul air into his mouth again and again. There was a squeak of rusty hinges and he flinched, eyes fixed to his feet as footsteps approached, the distinct sound of blades clanging together making him shiver, only causing more blood to pulse from him.

His eyes peeled open, head raising to gaze into the eyes of his newest tormentor. He froze in his seat as he met cold blue eyes, crinkled at the edges from the cocky smirk imprinted on his lips.

"You..." He croaked, voice cold.

Aaron cocked his head to the side, reaching out to pressed the pad of his thumb against a long slit ebbing blood from Lance's cheek. Lance hissed, eyes ablaze as they fixed Aaron with a hateful glare.

"When Zarkon told me he had a new toy for me I sure wasn't expecting this- this is gonna be _way_ more fun." Aaron spun the small blade in his hand, nicking Lance's lip. Lance spat a puddle of blood and spit onto the floor as it began to collect in the trench of his mouth, a long trail hanging from his lip.

"How's Keith doing? Was he as good as you hoped?" Aaron thumbed the blade, flicking blood off his fingers.

"I'll kill you." Lance murmured, vision becoming spotty as his wounds slowly stopped gushing blood and his heart slowed, most likely because his body was running out of blood to give.

"You could try, but from the looks of it you're barely hanging on. And I cannot _wait_ to push you off the edge."

Lance grimaced as Aaron shoved him back against the chair, voice crisp and cool, all warmth drained by lack of compassion. He didn’t even sound human. Lance’s wretched cry of pain echoed out of him as Aaron stabbed the blade into an older wound near his abdomen, resurfacing the pain he'd only just managed to partly suppress. 

"I'm... assuming," Lance panted, "You're... here to... finish me off?"

Aaron shrugged, "Depends. I have twenty minutes... think you can keep breathing till then?"

"God you're a _dick."_ Lance threw his head back, as the blade inside his stomach slowly started to turn, churning his flesh to mush in a sickening, wet noise.

"Speaking of... you never answered my question earlier. I've been meaning to visit Keith..." Aaron cocked his brow as Lance's eye twitched, "...or has he finally been tied down?"

"If you knew him at all you'd know nobody can _tie down_ Keith." Lance bit out through the grate of his teeth.

"I don't know... he seemed pretty willing when I was fucking him. It took weeks for those scratch marks to leave my back." Aaron’s mouth tilted in satisfaction, Lance's blood boiling as he watched him reminisce on memories he'd rather not picture.

Lance huffed, "Look if you're gonna keep talking about shit like this I'm just gonna off myself _for_ you.” He groaned, “Keith slept with you cause you blackmailed him. You know jack _shit_ about him. The only time he scratches is if he _wants_ to hurt someone, and believe me, he wanted to _kill_ you." Lance taunted as he leaned forward, impaling himself further, though the look on Aaron’s face was well worth it.

"Or maybe you're just not enough to please him?" Aaron seethed, "Maybe after I kill you I'll go to his apartment, shove my dick in him nice and hard, fuck him like the _slut_ he i-"

A sudden surge of furious adrenaline pulsing through his ears, his eyes, his veins, gave Lance the energy to lurch forward, slamming his forehead into Aaron’s nose, knocking the blonde back onto the floor, prompting a surge of blood to come flooding from his nose, mingling with Lance's own on the floor.

Aaron wiped his lip with his sleeve, snapping his head up to glower at Lance, cursing as his nose throbbed.

"I was gonna be nice and just slit your throat, but now? I'm gonna kill you _slowly._ Might get in a bit of trouble with the boss, but it'll be worth it to watch you writhe. And when I'm done I'm gone mail each one of your limbs to one of your friends- your head will go to your boyfriend."

"You're insane." Lance whispered up at him as Aaron yanked his head back, pressing the point of his blade into Lance's cheek, lightly piercing the skin.

"Probably." Aaron smirked, "But Ryan's not paying me to be nice."

Lance swallowed, pulse stuttering, "Ryan?"

"I've been keeping him updated, sending him photos. He wants your little boyfriend back _real_ bad- didn't Keith tell you about the note we left him?"

Lance's blood ran cold as he glared at Aaron, whose smirk grew wider.

"I guess not, huh? Seems you don’t know him as well as you thought. That's too bad, maybe you could have helped him. But instead, when I'm finished with you, I'm taking him back to Ryan. He'll be a whore for the rest of his life, all cause you couldn't protect him."

"I told you, Keith doesn't _need_ my protection, idioto." Lance seethed, "He'll kill you before you can lay a hand on him."

"I guess we'll see about that." Aaron shrugged, smirking unfaltering, "Now let's begin, shall we?"

Bracing himself for the entreating torture, all Lance could think about was Keith. The next few hours, as his head was thrown back, body ripped apart by whips and blades, throat turning raw from his agonized screams, only one thought crossed his mind.

_'Keith. Don't come for me.'_

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

They ambled along the road in silence, the armor the others around him wore creating friction against the wall of the van. Keith's elbows created flushed indents on his knees, which jigged and trembled the closer they got to Lance and Cat's old house.

It was a good half hour away, situated near a large lake and river in rural San Francisco. The cul-de-sac was eerily quiet as they passed the rows of houses, a few parents tucking their children behind their knees as the van passed. Keith sucked at his teeth at the fear the Galra had implanted in the hearts of so many good people, knees ceasing their trembling as determination settled onto his expression.

"Are you alright?" Cat asked quietly beside him, the first sentence uttered by any of them the whole journey.

"I'm fine." He insisted.

"What you're doing for my brother is a risk." She squeezed his hand, "So thank you."

He smiled thinly, gazing at her from the corner of his eyes, "It's Lance. I... I love him." He whispered weakly.

Her eyes wavered as she smiled, "You should tell him that, when we get him back. I’m certain he feels the same."

Keith pushed his thumbs together, bending them back so his fingers flushed pink, "I don't know what I'd do if..." He trailed off, feeling everyone's eyes on him.

"He'll be okay. Your plan is perfect, Keith. He'd be proud of you." Shiro said adamantly, prompting a small smile to spring onto Keith's lips, at the same time the tires beneath the van screeched to a halt.

Hunk peeped out through the grate separating the back of the van to the front seats, shooting them a thumbs up.

"This is as close as I can get you without being seen." He announced, "Are you ready?" He blinked at Keith.

Keith sighed, standing up, his hair brushing the roof of the van. Unlike the others who wore all black, armored by thick black padding around their chests, Keith wore plain jeans and a t-shirt, hanging loosely over his back.

"Last chance to back out." Shiro warned him as Keith shrugged on his hoodie, holding Keith's shoulder, "We could re-group, come up with another plan?"

"This is our only chance," Keith contended, "I'm not backing out now."

Shiro nodded, unsurprised, "Good luck." He mumbled as he pulled Keith into a hug, joined by Cat, Matt and Pidge who wrapped their arms around them.

"Hey, don't have a group hug without us!" Hunk whined from next to Shay in the front, "Keith I'm hugging you mentally, buddy! Do you feel it?"

Surprisingly Keith did feel amazingly warm, surrounded by his friends, and nodded with a chuckle, "Thanks, Hunk."

"No problem. Go kick their asses!" He whooped as Keith opened the back door to the van, casting a final look over his shoulder towards his friends. Shiro and Matt squeezed each other's hands, while Pidge wrapped Cat into a hug, waving from behind her shoulder. Keith gave them all a small smile, and a final nod of farewell, before flipping his hood over his head to obscure his face, turning towards to building glowing with dim light ahead of him.

From the outside one would have seen an ordinary bar, radiating loud chatter and the stench of alcohol. Rusty barrels of noxious liquid were littered around the entrance, as well as a graveyard of beer bottles gathered around the garbage. Tall weeds grew between the stones and the fence around it was almost falling over.

But there were small hints that gave away it's carefully constructed disguise- the purple tag on the fence for instance, warning away anybody who knew it's implication. The teens gathered outside all wore the same emblem on their backs, cigarettes emitting puffs of smoke as the ends smoldered orange, indicating their presence in the darkness.

They eyed Keith up as he passed the iron fence, eyes the only noticeable feature about with the darkness shrouding them, cold and animal. Nobody joined a gang without being a lost soul first. Nobody went to monster for guidance unless they themselves had become one. Keith was one of the lucky few, he knew. He could hardly judge or fear them, when he easily could have become one of them.

He rested his hand on the wooden door, it’s mouldy slats letting the light shine through, painting his face with illuminated stripes. He took a deep breath, squinting as he pushed it open and was bombarded with harsh bar lights. The hinges squealed as if warning him, but their plea was silenced by the wall of noise enveloping him as he entered. Deep, booming laughter overpowered the jukebox, conversation swirling with the dirty smoke pungent with drink. The only women in sight were scantily dressed, lounging over the laps of the patrons and giggling into their ears, fixing him with glares the moment he entered, perceiving his smaller stature and soft skin in the entirely wrong way.

All eyes were fixed on him as the door swung shut, announcing his entrance with a loud creak and a thud. One of the men closest to him shoved a woman from his lap, boots grinding against the floor beneath him as he stomped over to Keith, snarling as his arms folded menacingly.

"The _fuck_ are you doing here, Lion?" The skinhead growled, pulsing with rage.

"Haven't you heard? They've got one of the cubs locked up downstairs," A lankier guy approached, resting his shoulder on the broader man's shoulder with a smirk, "He must be here to get him back."

Keith remained level gazed, refusing to let himself be intimidated by their stature. He kept his breathing even and his fingers loose, unclenched despite the unending urge to knock a few of their teeth out at the mere mention of his boyfriend.

"Then let's just kill 'im." The taller guy flexed.

His friend pushed him back, "Nah, see his hair? This is the guy Aaron was talking about. That sicko has dibs on this one."

Ice stalked through Keith's veins as the name was uttered into the air, turning his blood to cold sludge. The men above him grinned as his stoic expression faltered, making way for pure, unprecedented fear.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Wanna run back to your pride?" The skinnier one advanced on him placing his palm flat against the wall next to him and oh, Keith knew acting now would compromise the plan but god he _itched_ to punch this guy in the face, kill the weak act and kick the asses of everyone in the bar looking at him like he was pathetic.

"That's enough, Ivan." A deep voice announced from behind their backs, looming over each of them and casting Keith into a further shadow. His breath caught in his throat as the two men backed away, revealing Zarkon behind them. Their eyes met in an intense battle, Keith's heated glare matched Zarkon's perplexed, curious gaze.

"Kogane." Zarkon folded his arms, "Where are the rest of your friends?"

"It's just me." Keith lied, fists clenched as his glare bored into Zarkon, "I'm here for Lance."

Zarkon cocked his brow, "Alone? I stationed all those guards at the back door for nothing." He smirked.

"Stop this. Let’s just get this over with," Keith demanded, "Let Lance go and you can take me in return. My mother and father worked for you once. Take me and I can repay my father's debt, and then some. That is my offer.”

"...I'll admit it's appealing. But you understand I can't let Lance go. He knows too much, he could go to the police." Zarkon faked remorse.

"Shiro already knows you murdered Mr and Mrs McClain," Keith revealed, watching Zarkon's smirk freeze in place, "He hasn't said anything yet. You can let Lance go and nothing has to happen."

"And take you in return? Shiro would never give up his favourite student to save another." Zarkon frowned.

"Shiro doesn't know I'm here." Keith said firmly, eyes wide and begging, "Please, let him go and I'll do whatever you want. I'll even go work for Ryan again." The thought sent a shudder through Keith's spine.

"You've become sloppy, Keith. You never used to let emotions rule over you." Zarkon shook his head, "I thought you knew, we cannot afford to love in this business."

Keith flinched as Zarkon grabbed his shoulder, steering him left towards a door parted slightly, revealing a dark downwards passage.

"I'll accept your offer." Zarkon pushed him forwards to the top of the stairs. Keith swallowed before slowly starting his descent down, feeling Zarkon's presence startlingly close to his back. The air was moisture laden and smelled frighteningly of blood, the metallic stench becoming more and more powerful as they approached the door at the bottom of the stairs.

His blood ran cold when he heard an anguished groan echo up the steps, tainted with pain. His feet slowed on the steps as he became more and more fearful of what he'd find behind the door.

"I-Is that-?"

"My men have some pent up frustration towards the Lions, and I wasn't about to deny them the chance to get their revenge." Zarkon said nonchalantly behind him as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Eyes flashing, Keith stormed through the door, resisting the urge to gag as he inhaled particles of dust and the pungent smell of blood.

His eyes widened in horror as they settled on the figure chained from the ceiling in the middle of the room. Lance's arms were suspended over his head by rusted cuffs hanging from the ceiling, toes grazing against the floor enough to leave scratches but not enough to relieve the strain on his biceps. His shirt had been ripped open by a blade, leaving parts of the fabric strewn on the floor and his bloodied chest exposed to the parasites of the air.

"You have two minutes to say your goodbyes." Zarkon said monotonously as Lance's eyes wearily opened, bloodshot and wavering under the dim lights. His head raised at the sound of voices, catching sight of Keith. A pained sound escaped his mouth, an incomprehensible warning.

Keith skidded over to Lance's broken body, fingers shaking as he delicately cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to meet his gaze. Lance's lips parted as he perceived the fear trembling in Keith's eyes, itching to reach out and kiss it away.

"What have they _done_ to you...?" Keith whispered as he thumbed across the scars littered over his cheeks. Lance leaned into his palm, pursing his lips to kiss his soft skin.

"What are you _doing,_ stupid?” Lance croaked, and Keith could hear the agony it took just to form a sentence in his dry, parched throat.

"I'm gonna get you out of here." Keith mumbled, combing his fingers through Lance's hair, "I just need you to trust me."

"Keith they'll _kill you."_ Lance's eyes begged him, "Please, just go."

"I'm not leaving you." Keith's lip trembled, shirt tainted with red as he pressed his body against Lance's, blood seeping onto the fabric. Lance looked at him desperately, unable to utter another word and not wanting to with how good Keith's fingers felt on his skin.

"Look I have a plan." Keith whispered, "Just hang... in there." He finished weakly, glancing at Lance's hovering feet as Lance gave him a dry look. Lance's eyes began to droop, bright spots appearing in his vision as Keith's face blurred out of focus.

Keith planted a slow kiss to his forehead, freezing as he heard three men enter the room, exchanging a brief, muttered conversation with Zarkon. Glancing over his shoulder he met the eyes of one of the tallest, who wore a sickening smirk as his eyes danced up and down his body.

The three of them began to advance on him. Spinning back round to Lance, whose eyes were barely open enough to see him, let alone the threat approaching him, Keith took a deep breath, kissing Lance carefully on the forehead to capture his attention.

"I need you to do me a favor." He breathed, watching Lance's eyes cloud with confusion. He leaned down so his lips were near Lance's ear, talking as softly under his breath as he could.

_"Close your eyes."_

Lance blinked worriedly, "Wh- why, what's-?"

"No matter what you hear, no matter what anyone says _do not open them."_ Keith pleaded with him, "Promise me."

Lance swallowed thickly but nodded nonetheless. Keith froze as a hand clasped around his waist starting to drag him away. His fingers slipping from Lance's face, Lance's eyes widened.

"Now! Close them!" Keith yelled and Lance reluctantly abided, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Keith swung around to fiercely scowl at the man holding his waist, attempting to shove his hands off.

"What the hell are you doing we had a _deal!"_ Keith shouted at Zarkon as the other two men advanced on him, grabbing his wrists and shoving him onto the floor. Chin pressed into the concrete Keith glanced up at Lance, finding his eyes still closed despite his head flicking too and fro as he attempted to gauge the situation.

"We did- Lance's life in exchange for yours. They need to take their anger out somehow. If not through torturing your boyfriend, then through fucking you in front of him. You’re _mine_ now, Kogane."

Despite Lance's closed eyes Keith could picture the rage flashing through them as he heard the sound of clothes being shucked and belts being pulled through their loops.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Lance yelled.

Zarkon stepped over Keith's writhing body to stand in front of Lance, his breath fanning over his face and tightly closed eyes.

"Open your eyes and find out." He breathed, grinning as he turned to watch Keith struggle on the floor, grabby fingers reaching into his pants.

"No- don't! Lance you prom- _mph!"_ Keith growled as cloth was forced into his mouth and down his throat, gagging him so no further words could leave him. His skin prickled with disgust as hands traveled up and down his body, over his chest and his ass and to his legs.

But nobody in the room squirmed as hard as Lance, in extreme effort to keep his eyes closed, despite the muffled cries and sounds reaching his ears.

"I know you want to." Zarkon whispered, "Do it. Open them."

"No." Lance spit out.

Zarkon scowled, "Why? Offer him some comfort, look at him."

"He doesn't want me to." Lance growled, "And you should know by now-"

Zarkon's head flung around as a terrified yell erupted from across the room, the three men each exclaiming loud curses as they pulled off Keith's shirt, the boy's eyes flashing with a smirk as they laid their eyes on the carved up flesh of Keith's back, three slim, handle-less blades taped to his back, in prime position for his arms to fly behind him and drag them from place. 

Lance's eyes flew open at the sound of a scream, to fix Zarkon with a knowing, cocky smirk.

"-I belong to him."

The door flew open, letting through garbled screams from the men in the bar above them as Shiro and the others came storming through.

"What the fu-!?" The men who were holding Keith exclaimed as he spun around, dragging the point of his blades across their thinly clothed chests and down their legs, bathing in their screams of agony. Cat ran to her brother, sobbing slightly in relief as she unshackled his wrists, letting his body fall onto her shoulders, hushing his groans of pain. Keith fixed his eyes onto Zarkon, pulling his final blade from his back and aiming it for him, striking his shoulder with finesse. Zarkon shouted, eyes squeezing shut as it buried itself home in his flesh.

"Keith, take Lance, we'll take care of Zarkon!" Shiro's eyes blazed as he fixed them on Zarkon, pistol steady in his hand. Keith dashed over to Lance, the bodies between him moving in slow motion as he approached, making his path clear. Cat whispered to him as she lowered him onto the bottom step of the basement, his aching body yielding a wince and a whimper as he came into contact with the cool stone.

 _"Lance."_ Keith breathed, allowing Lance's head to fall onto his shoulder as he cradled him in his arms. Cat clung to their hands as the havoc erupted around them, men falling to their knees as their legs were cut down beneath them and the barrels of guns came down on their heads. Hunk and Shay appeared at the foot of the steps above them, finished with their duty, deadly silence ringing in Keith's ear as the final grunt sounded behind him.

"You did it," Cat's lip trembled, "You got him back." She smiled waveringly.

"We all did." He panted as he held Lance close, half conscious against his chest.

He glanced over at his shoulder, over all the groaning men on the floor with their hands bound, to where Shiro loomed over Zarkon, the hulking man brought to his knees. He snarled up at him, trembling with rage.

"So what now, Lions? You can't _arrest_ me- not without exposing your own operation."

"Some things are worth the sacrifice." Shiro spit. Zarkon growled, eyes going wide as a figure even larger than Shiro approached down the stairs, badge flashing on his chest as his one eye glittered with intimidation.

"Iverson..?" Lance breathed as the man carefully stepped around him, glancing down at him regretfully. He met Shiro's eyes with a firm nod, pulling cuffs from his pocket.

"Sir." Shiro greeted him, "I believe this is the man you've been looking for." Shiro kicked Zarkon forwards so he was on his knees, in prime position for Iverson to slam a pair of handcuffs over his wrists. They collectively breathed in relief at the sight.

"Let’s get him into a car- take that kid, too. He needs a hospital." Iverson commanded, meeting Keith's eyes sharply. Keith nodded immediately, lifting Lance's arm and curling it around his neck.

"Come on, just up the steps and then you can rest." He whispered as he lifted Lance to his unsteady feet. Only just regaining function in his hands and fingers Lance faltered for a moment, before he gave Keith a small, determined smile, letting him drag him up the steps.

"You brought cops, huh?" He bit out weakly as they reached the main bar, where several officers were putting perps in cuffs, the others lying strewn unconscious across the floor from Hunk and Shay's handiwork. 

"It was Shiro's idea. He could lose his job." Keith uttered, "But he didn't care. He just wanted to get you back." He smiled softly as he helped lower Lance into the passengers seat of one of the cop cars, blinking lights reflecting in his pupils as Keith wrapped a helpfully supplied blanket around his shoulders.

"That was stupid." Lance breathed as his head fell against the back of the seat, eyes open in slits, "I was so scared that..." He swallowed, averting his gaze as Keith cupped his cheek, kissing his bloodied lips as soft as sunlight. 

"It was part of the plan. I wouldn't have let them." Keith whispered against his lips, thumbing at his cheek, "But I’ll admit... I was scared too.”

"I'll wipe all of it away." Lance kissed down his jaw, wincing when the pain wouldn't allow him to go further then the edge of Keith's ear. Keith chuckled, pushing Lance back against the seat.

"Calm down, Romeo, you need to sleep. I'll come to the hospital as soon as we're finished here."

"Promise?" Lance whispered.

Keith smiled, kissing his forehead.

"Promise." Lance hummed at the small press of lips, pulling Keith down by the collar of his wrecked shirt to claim his lips, no matter how much his hands screamed at him for doing it.

"I love you." It spilled past his lips before he could try to stop it- not that he wished to. It was true, undeniably so, and Keith seemed to know it too judging by the smile that blossomed over his face.

"Sweet jesus." He breathed, stealing his breath away as he kissed him forcefully, uttering a squeaky apology as Lance groaned in pain. They chuckled together as Lance held his ribs, Keith resting his head against Lance's.

"I love you too."

They smiled at each other, hearing the crunch of gravel as Shiro approached, ruffling Keith's hair.

"He needs to go now." He smiled softly, "I promise I'll take you right there when Iverson is done questioning you."

Keith groaned, "God, why did you have to get that jackass involved?"

Shiro chuckled, pacing away, giving them a final few seconds of goodbye. Keith sighed, turning to Lance, who smiled thinly.

"See you later?"

Keith huffed, "Wish me luck."

He waved after the cop car as it sped Lance away in the direction of the hospital, clinging to the ends of his sleeves. Shiro watched him tenderly, cocking his head round as he heard footsteps approaching. He swallowed when he was joined by Iverson, who gave him a firm clap on the shoulder.

"You did the right thing, Shiro." He said in a deep voice as they observed the others flocking to Keith, pulling each other into a large hug, "They're good kids?"

"Yes, sir." Shiro smiled, "The best."

Iverson nodded, tucking his pistol into his belt again, "Consider this your warning, Shirogane."

Shiro blinked in surprise at him as Iverson turned away towards his car, pulling the door open and leaning against the roof.

"I'm sorry, sir- you're _not_ firing me?" He asked in disbelief.

"Well," Iverson cleared his throat, "From the looks of it you're the only help those kids have. You saved a lot of lives, tonight, and I'm the only one on the force who knows your part in all this."

Shiro's eyes softened as Iverson slid into his seat, starting the engine.

"Thank you, sir."

Iverson nodded, "Just do me one favor?"

"Anything." Shiro said firmly.

Iverson glanced over to the group huddled on the pavement fondly, pressing his lips together.

"Do right by those kids- they deserve better than this life." He looked up at Shiro forcefully.

"I know." He said softly, "And I'll do my best, sir."

Iverson gave him a final nod before Shiro closed his door, giving him a curt wave before stepping aside to let him drive away. Turning his gaze to the group of youngsters, his family, Shiro felt his heart fill with warmth, pulling Cat to his chest as he cleared his throat to announce-

"So... who's gonna be the one break it to Allura that we arrested Zarkon without her?"


	25. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Keith had never been so eager to be walking through the corridors of a hospital, rounding the corners with a large grin on his face. Even the disheartening stark white walls and smell of disinfectant couldn't bring him down as he darted down the halls, his friends disdainfully running behind in an effort not lose sight of him.

Thanks to Iverson the entire Galra web had been picked apart. Keith even had the sublime pleasure of watching Ryan get dragged into a cell in the station while he was making his statement. Ryan was shoved onto the cold floor by none other than Shiro, who’s face was taut with disgust. Keith felt like his heart was finally resting.

After making his statement to Iverson - that he was at the bar to meet a friend and had just happened to stumble upon the basement - Keith had been forced by Shiro and Matt to crash at theirs. He'd slept in till noon, his aching body appreciating the rest enough that when he finally woke his limbs were back to normal functionality, allowing him to spring down the steps, wrenching Shiro away from his daughter and into the car to drive him to see Lance.

He'd been buzzing the entire journey, greeting the rest of their friends at the entrance briefly, exchanging a tight hug with Cat before skidding over to the receptionist excitedly, seeing surprise flare in her eyes as he clung to the counter, asking Lance's room number.

"I'm sorry, sir, but visiting hours are-"

Shiro had huffed, pulling his wallet out and flashing his badge to her, immediately giving them access. Cat sighed in relief as the receptionist told them Lance's room number, watching Keith hurry over to the elevators.

"Thank god you didn't get fired or he would have killed her for that room number." She grumbled up at Shiro.

"I've never seen him this excited for anything." He grinned as they began to chase after Keith, who sprung out of the elevator before the doors had barely opened.

He expertly dodged nurses and carts of lunch and pills, eyes set on the end of the hall as he rounded the final corner, spotting Lance immediately through the glass walls of the ward, upright with his usual bright expression as he chatted with the nurse clearing the table in front of him of his half-eaten lunch.

He watched as the lady broke out into laughter, patting his cheek before moving on to the patient in the bed next to him. Keith swallowed as he paused at the door, taking a moment to observe Lance. He looked better than ever, cheeks flushed with warmth again and a small smile dancing over his lips.

"Aren’t you going in?" Cat asked softly behind him, and he turned to find all his friends watching him perceptively. He nodded, exhaling before pushing the door open, hearing a small bleep above him to announce his arrival. Lance's eyes darted over towards him, lips parting before a wide smile erupted over his face.

"Keith!" He exclaimed in glee as Keith carefully padded towards him. He took hold of his wrist as soon as he was in proximity, pulling him down to kiss him.

Despite his awareness he was in a ward full of patients, with his friends behind him watching, Keith couldn't help the smile that broke out over his face as he kissed Lance's back, his lips their usual soft texture with the cuts healed up and treated with balm.

"I missed you." Lance breathed, as he kissed Keith's head, blinking round to the rest of his friends happily, "Hey guys!"

Cat grinned shuffling over to pull him into a ginger hug, holding him loosely through the hospital gown thinly veiling the bruises and gashes over his body.

"Hola, hermano." She kissed his cheek, wedging herself next to him on the bed while Keith pulled up a chair, fiddling with Lance's fingers as he greeted the rest of his friends with appreciative hugs and kisses. Keith met the perceptive eyes of an older lady sat up in the bed opposite Lance's, her caramel skin worn but still divulging her heritage. 

"Ay, hijo, él es tu novio?" She spoke up just as Allura was pulling away from hugging Lance, catching his attention.

"Sí, Sofía. Este es Keith." Lance squeezed his hand, and Keith gave him a curious glance.

"What did she say?" He furrowed his brow.

Cat chuckled, "She asked if you're his boyfriend. Couldn't resist bragging about him even here, bobo?"

Lance frowned at her and Sofía, thumbing at Keith's hip as he blushed.

"Basta, estás avergonzando el." Lance scolded them, "Keith, this is Sofía. She's been keeping me company."

Sofía nodded, smiling at Keith, "He told me all about his wonderful boyfriend, but he didn't tell me you were so _handsome."_

"She's also a huge flirt." Lance deadpanned as the woman shrugged her frail shoulders nonchalantly.

"Mijo it's fine, there's nothing wrong with being jealous." She said solemnly, and Keith snorted as Lance glared at her. A nurse came over with a tray to the old lady, obscuring her from view and engaging her in a new conversation.

"So, you talk about me?" Keith cocked his brow now the lady was out of earshot. Cat giggled.

"He doesn't shut up about you, Keith, I'm surprised you haven't realized yet."

Keith gazed at Lance smugly as he huffed, kissing his knuckles and taking him by surprise.

"I think it's cute." He said honestly, "Though please resit from talking about me to total strangers in the future." He chuckled.

"Barf."

"Shut up, Catalina." Lance glowered at her.

Shiro cleared his throat, capturing everyone's attention from the foot of Lance's bed, raising up out of his chair. Everyone looked at him curiously as he reached into his bag, pulling out a folder.

"While everyone is here together, we have an announcement." He glanced up at Allura, who also rose.

Lance gasped, "Shiro's been fucking Allura this whole time, guys, I called it."

Matt thwacked him on the back of the head forcefully at the same time Keith punched his shoulder with a scowl.

"No. It's not that." Allura gave him a dry look, "But it is important."

"We wish your lives could have been different." Shiro began.

"Good start, boss." Matt gave him a sarcastic thumbs up as they glanced up at him offhandedly.

Shiro rolled his eyes, "What I mean is, you guys have been through a lot. I wish you hadn't, but I feel lucky to have known you all nonetheless."

"We've known for a while we'd need to find a more permanent solution for you all, and we finally have it." Allura smiled, "I have decided that once we rebuild Altea, I won't be assembling the Lions again. Ever again, actually."

They all reeled back, beginning to protest loudly with wide eyes. She waved her hands to cut them off, holding them up in surrender.

"We all knew it wouldn't be able to last forever. Shiro almost lost his job, and Lance almost lost his _life."_ She locked eyes with the broken boy on the bed who cast his gaze away with a mournful scowl.

"You deserve better- all of you." Shiro said firmly, "So we've done some thinking and decided not to continue with our operations."

"Then what are we supposed to do now?" Lance looked at him pleadingly, "I can't afford to support both me and Cat without these missions."

Shiro and Allura exchanged small smiles with each other, and, taking a deep breath, Shiro pulled a piece of paper from the folder in his hands, presenting it to Lance.

"We know. That's why we got you this."

Lance's eyes flitted over the paper, skimming until he spotted the bright, bold letters spelling out 'ACCEPTED.'

"Y-You..." He choked.

"You've got a full scholarship to go and study astronomy at SFU." Shiro grinned, "We've been meaning to get you back into school for years, actually. Me and Allura applied for you, and that astronomy quiz Cat gave to you a few months ago was your entrance exam."

Lance began to tear up as he read through the letter, feeling Keith's fingers tighten impossibly hard around his own. Keith and Cat pulled him into a tender hug, grinning at each other. Keith closed his eyes contentedly, before there was a fluttering sound in his ear from a piece of paper being thrust his way too.

"Iverson was impressed by what you did yesterday." Shiro began as Keith took the paper gingerly in his fingers, eyes widening as he saw the large emblem in the corner, "He's offering you a full-time position as an officer, if you're willing to train on the job...?"

Keith's mouth fell open as he leaped onto Shiro and hugged him, silently starting to cry.

"I'm gonna be dating a hot cop? Sick!" Lance grinned as Shiro lowered Keith to the grown, an equally bright smile on his face.

"Well this way Cat and Pidge can finish high school together, without you guys having to worry about work or money for school." Shiro said, turning to the others smiling next to the bed, "As for Shay and Hunk, Coran would be happy to have you work with him until Altea is rebuilt. You two can have your old room back so you can start up your studies again without having to uphold an apartment."

"Really?!" Shay exclaimed as she bounded into Shiro, hugging him tightly.

"You've all got your whole lives ahead of you. You can start over, without the baggage of your past." Shiro smiled as he looked around at the teenagers crying and clinging to each other.

"So I guess this is the end of the Lions, huh?" Lance sniffled, pulling away from Keith's chest.

"Hey," Allura squeezed his hand, "We're your family, no matter what."

Lance smiled up at her as Keith kissed his head, "Thanks 'Llura. And if you ever need us again, hit us up anytime."

"I think I've done enough to avenge my father." She pressed her lips together softly, "Now I can focus on running my bar, starting my own family."

Lance winced, "Please never put the image of you and Lotor reproducing in my head ever again."

She rolled her eyes as she plopped down at the end of his bed, pinching him teasingly, flicking her single braid, decorated with a bright pink rose, over her shoulder.

"Where is Lotor, by the way?" Hunk piped up, brow furrowed. Allura looked at her lap, solemnly, mouth twitching in a somber, half smile.

"He's with his father. There's... a lot they need to discuss." She sighed, "But he's glad, mostly, that the danger of the Galra is finally off the streets."

"What about you?" Lance glanced up at Matt.

He shrugged, "I'll probably spend some time looking after Grace. Maybe I'll go back to teaching, get a job at Cat and Pidge's high school." His eyes flashed mischievously.

The girls groaned in tandem.

"Please, brother, for the love of god tell me you're joking."

Matt kept his expression stoic as he winked at Pidge, expressions of pain blossoming over her and Cat's face.

"I'm gonna go get some food- you guys want anything?" He announced, standing suddenly. The others shrugged nonchalantly.

"Sure, I haven't eaten." Allura joined him, Pidge and Cat's eyes widening as he disappeared quickly down the hall.

"Hey, don't try and get out of this you are _not_ coming to teach at schoo- Matt come back here!" Pidge darted after him down the hallway, followed by Cat and a weary Shiro and Allura. Hunk and Shay waved to Lance and Keith before running after them, Shay's giggles echoing down the hall.

"I love them but... dios _mio_ they're loud." Lance sighed, head falling back against the pillow as he winced. Keith stroked his forehead worriedly.

"Do you want me to go?" He whispered, Lance's grip around his hand tightening as he shook his head.

"No, I feel better when you're here," Lance smiled weakly, "Besides, I love you too much to make you spend another minute with my sister."

Keith chuckled as he fiddled with the ends of Lance's hair, crisp and split from dryness and blood. He must have been unable to shower yet, Keith realized, and it was then he was reminded of the hell Lance had been put through only hours before. His heart ached as he leaned down, kissing the small part of skin that wasn't bruised on Lance's hand, clasped with his own.

Feeling the solemness surrounding his boyfriend, Lance opened one eyes blearily, tilting his head perceptively.

"What's wrong?" He croaked.

"I'm just... overwhelmed." Keith admitted, "Only a few hours ago I thought you were _dead,_ and now we have this whole future available to us, one where we don't have to live in fear, and it just doesn't feel... real." He finished weakly.

"I know what you mean." Lance thumbed over his fingertips, wiping away the grains of dust in the crevices, "But to be honest, I don't care. Let's just enjoy it while it lasts, and hope it does for a long time." He gave him a wavering smile, releasing a small noise as Keith mashed their mouths together.

Resisting the urge to just climb into Lance's lap right there in the middle of the crowded hospital, Keith grinned against his lips, whispering a small, _"I love you."_

"I love you too." Lance groaned, "But there's an old lady watching us right now and I'd rather do this when we get home." He chuckled, glancing over at Sofía who watched them curiously. Keith pouted as he plopped back into his seat, refusing to let go of Lance's hand.

"So what now?" He huffed, "I go back and just leave you here?"

Lance cracked a smile, "That's usually how hospitals work, Keith."

"Don't patronize me," Keith scowled, "What if something happens?" His brow tilted in concern.

"Nothing's gonna happen," Lance squeezed his fingers reassuringly, "I'll be home before you know it. Until then you're staying with Shiro and Matt, right?" He asked.

Keith nodded, looking down at his feet as a shiver went through him at the thought of being home alone.

"Yeah. I don't feel safe by myself." He admitted lowly, feeling delicate fingers tilt his chin up for their eyes to meet.

"We're gonna look after each other, okay? So neither of us has to get hurt again."

Keith smiled sighing as Lance pulled him down softly by his wrist to kiss him. He sighed when once again he had to pull away under the watchful eyes of the other patients and nurses, Lance's fingers calloused against his soft cheeks as he caressed it.

"God I want you." He murmured, sending tingles across Keith's face.

Keith chuckled, nosing against his fingers, "That's probably not the best idea." He glanced at Lance's gown hiding his battered body pointedly with a small, hidden smile.

"Fuck it, I'll break both my legs if that's what it takes." He grumbled, reaching down to squeeze Keith's hip. Keith batted his hand away with a blush, pulling away and standing up. Lance whined at the loss of Keith's hand in his own, reaching out to try and pull him back.

"I'm just going to the vending machine, I'll be back in a minute." Keith assured him, kissing him briefly before exiting with a small wave. Lance sighed as he followed his body down the hall with his eyes, head cocked against his pillow as he and Sofía watched Keith angrily kick at the machine when it ate his dollar.

"He is... definitely special." Sofía mused.

"He's perfect." Lance sighed, meeting her smile with one just as bright.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

His footsteps seemed to fall in slow motion with the delay of the echo of boots on concrete, heels and toes meeting the ground in two separate sounds, that vibrated off the walls, announcing his presence to the men that growled at him through prison bars.

Each cell was barely six feet by four, walls the same thick grey stone as the floor, and rather than a wide window with a flower box there was a barred hole without glass. The fresh summer air was a relief, but the cold seasons surely brought a wicked draft. And even without the glare of a window it was no brighter inside than it was during the gloom of dusk, even now with the sun at it's peak.

He swallowed as he was led into a chamber separated by a piece of thick glass, the room on the other side barren of any seating other than a bed, consisting of plank of wood on legs with a flimsy mattress and thin blanket. The only way in was through a large, grate-less metal door, no windows to be seen. There was no way to know if it was night or day, totally disorientating by design. Given enough time he supposed one could forget their own name in there.

His eyes settled on the hunched figure stood in front of the window, face etched into a furious scowl, complete with a pair of bushy eyebrows almost completely merged together.

"Father." Lotor said dryly, hearing his voice echo through the transmitter into the other room, swallowing down his jump as Zarkon slammed his fist against the glass.

"Get. Me. _Out of here."_ Zarkon snarled, "Or I swear I'll-"

"You're not getting out of here. Ever." Lotor narrowed his eyes coldly, "I'm just here to tell you that you failed. Lance will make a full recovery, and he and Keith have a bright future ahead of them."

"You chose those damn Lions over your own father?" Zarkon growled.

"You're an insane, mass-murdering psychopath. Forgive me if I'm not so inclined to be sorry about it."

"This is that _whore's_ fault, she's the one who made you weak, who made you betray your family-"

Lotor slammed his palm against the glass, glowering at his father fiercely.

"Talk about Allura that way again and I might have to reconsider my option to not have you killed." He snarled, "You _lost_ father. Now you get to spend the rest of your days in that cell, while I live my life with my _real_ family." He backed away from the glass, signalling to the guards to open the door.

"Family? You think those Lions are your _family?_ They'll never trust you; they'll never stop seeing you as Galra. Your home is with _me."_

"Maybe they'll never really trust me..." Lotor trailed off with a small, sad smile, "But I guess I'll just have to spend the rest of my life proving them wrong."

He nodded to the guard as he passed back through the door, his father's screams following all the way down the hall. He swore he'd never heard a sweeter sound.


	26. Epilogue: Time after Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll seriously thought I was gonna leave this with only two smut scenes pshh.

**8 MONTHS LATER**

Keith glanced up in awe as Lance drove them into the lot of Altea, renewed an refurbished at last. In eight months it was as if the building had been completely transformed, old, decrepit wood replaced with newer, sturdier brick, the metallic royal blue sign shining brightly under the morning sun.

Flower planters were in every line of sight, growing blooms that would one day surely end up in Allura's hair, but for now stood as sturdy and proud as the rest of the structure, adding a pop of colour to the brick and framing the new, glistening windows.

"Holy shit..." Lance's mouth fell open as they parked, hopping out of the car and towards the front doors, where Allura and Lotor stood, Allura hopping excitedly as she caught sight of them. The old, half hanging door had been replaced with a grand double set, painted the same blue as the sign on top of the building.

Cat ran up to Allura, squealing as the two women excitedly held each other, speaking erratically as they swooned over the refurbishment. Allura's eyes were shining with joy as she caught sight of Lance and Keith dragging them into a joint hug, one of her arms around each other them.

Lance chuckled, careful not to jostle her too much and displace the braid formed with half of her hair twisted round with the rest of the loose strands. Today she wore a rainbow of different flowers in the delicate structure, matching the vibrant patterns of her clothing, leather jacket discarded for a flowy dress and cardigan.

"It looks amazing, 'Llura." Lance grinned when she finally released him and Keith.

"You should see inside-! Oh but first, let me see it!" She pointed excitedly to Lance's abdomen, a bright smile on her face as she tickled the flesh there.

"Fine, fine." He relented as she poked and prodded at him, lifting the bottom of his shirt up until his chest was on display. Allura gasped as her fingers brushed the intricate pattern of his new tattoo. What was once a lone blue lion was now two tattoos merged into one, it's head now entangled by the tail of a vibrant red one, it's body curled playfully in on itself and it's eyes bright and curious, the tips of it's ears ending just shy of Lance's pec.

"It's gorgeous." Allura breathed as Lance sheepishly lowered his shirt, glancing at Keith to give him a small grin. Keith smiled back sheepishly as Allura glanced between them with a perceptive glitter to her eye.

Despite his adoration for the tattoo, and the many hours he'd spent trailing his finger over it's pattern when Lance had gotten it, Keith couldn't help the way his stomach churned every time Lance revealed it. The smattering of scars dotted all over his chest made it hard for him to look, particularly the long, white permanent one over his shoulder Aaron had given him, that would make it difficult for him to use his arm for a long time yet.

No matter how much Lance assured him he was alright, that he was healed, Keith still felt that pang of fear whenever Lance winced or tossed and turned in his sleep, the urge to shelter him undying within his chest. But Lance was steady, reassuring, trailing his hands through Keith's hair whenever either one of them had a night terror, and making sure to lift him as often as possible, to prove he was anything but weak.

"Well I wanted to make sure a part of him will always be with me." Lance said bashfully as Allura and the others cooed, rolling his eyes at the gesture and taking Keith's hand, pulling him inside the bar.

He gasped as his eyes dragged over the new interior, a perfect combination of rustic and modern, the large crackling fireplace next to the large log piles in the furthest corner of the bar offset by a collection of leafy plants climbing up the walls, the metal table legs purposely discolored at some parts, the wooden tables they suspended holding warmly lit candles and even more flowers, the light from the fireplace and the candles on the tables and walls the only illumination provided other than sunlight.

They hung up their jackets on the helpfully provided wrought iron rack next to the doors, stepping onto floorboard that no longer creaked beneath their feet, sheltered by walls that were now absent of any stains or knife marks and a beautifully thatched roof that seemed to touch the sky.

Hunk, Shay and Pidge were already inside, manning their stations with wide smiles and chatter, Shay's shrieks of joy reaching Lance's ears as Hunk playfully whipped her with his dripping cleaning rag. Pidge tapped away at her phone behind the bar, glancing up at the sound of the doors opening and spotting Cat with an adoring, love-struck grin.

"Oh my god I _love_ it." Cat uttered excitedly as she ran into the new, even bigger dance floor, "Oh and you saved the jukebox!"

Lance's head snapped round towards her, a smile breaking over his face as he skidded over to the wooden music machine, wrapping his arms around it gleefully, squeezing tightly.

"I missed you baby." He swooned as he planted his lips against his beloved jukebox, eyes glancing over the song options. He slotted his coin in lovingly pressed a button, Cyndi Lauper filling the bar.

"I'm right here." Keith muttered to himself under his breath as he watched his boyfriend fawn over the box, eyes widening as Lance sped over to him, pulling him over to the square dance floor.

"Oh no, not again. You _promised_ you wouldn't-"

"It's a special occasion, baby." Lance pouted, spinning Keith before he could even continue his protest.

_'Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick, and think of you...'_

Keith sighed, closing his eyes as he once again let Lance lead them round, seeing the others collapse into chairs at the edge of the dance floor around a large table, Pidge bringing over drinks for each other them before falling into Cat's lap, fiddling with her hair.

They watched as Keith and Lance giggled together, whirling around clumsily. They all wore fond smiles, reaching for their respective partners as the song trailed onward.

_'Then you say, go slow, I fall behind...'_

Cat's nose wrinkled as Lance kissed Keith passionately, casting her gaze aside and gagging comically.

"Please god let them trip and save my eyes from further slaughter." She pleaded up to the ceiling, making Pidge chuckled in her lap, the smaller girl tilting her head round to kiss her too, smiling sweetly against her lips.

_'If you're lost you can look, and you will find me. Time after time...'_

"How did I get so lucky?" Lance whispered, thumbing at Keith's cheeks with adoration. As they slowed to a halt, kisses became more frequent and impassioned, Keith couldn't help but wonder the same question.

"Oy, lovebirds, mind snapping out of it for a sec to try socializing?" Cat hollered unhelpfully, just as Lance's lips were inches from Keith's neck. Keith sighed, reluctantly pulling Lance over to the table with him, pushing him into a chair before tucking himself comfortably on his lap.

"Happy, hermana?" Lance scowled as his sister nodded and smirked, patting his cheek teasingly.

"Just saving you from yourself, furcia." She said slowly.

Shiro cleared his throat, seeing Lance's hand raising from his seat, set to strangle the girl beside him. He shook his head with a disapproving frown, prompting Lance to reluctantly lower it again.

"So, Lance," Shiro coughed, "How is school going?"

At the mere mention of school a smile broke across Lance's face, and he sat up excitedly.

"It's awesome. I've aced all my assignments so far. My professor even helped me get a part-time job as a security guard at an observatory uptown, just to help Keith with rent and stuff. I get to watch shows for free and get healthcare benefits, just for kicking out a stoner every now and then." He said gleefully.

Since taking down the Galra Keith had moved into Lance's apartment, only a few months after Lance was emitted from hospital. Pidge had also since secured her own drawer in Cat's bedroom, and was at the apartment most days, squeezing her way into their little home and fitting in surprisingly well, despite her incessant mocking of Keith and Lance’s relationship.

"Speaking of stoners, how's being a cop, Keith?" Pidge smirked over her glass.

Keith groaned, running his hand through his hair, "Iverson won't get off my ass about damned paperwork- and there's _tons_ of it. Oh, and tasers? Actually just for show. Apparently using one just means _more fucking paperwork."_ He fell against Lance's shoulder with a huff.

"He's just being grumpy- he loves it." Lance assured them, especially Shiro, who glanced at the disgruntled Keith with a small, worried expression.

"Yeah, I guess." Keith huffed again, blowing his fringe out of his eyes. Lance smirked at him with amusement as a stray hair stuck up, nosing it back into place affectionately.

"Hey, guys. I've got the projector set up in the office if you want to-" Lotor called from the threshold of the door next to the bar, prompting them to all immediately spring up out of their seats, skidding towards him across the dance floor at full speed.

Allura had lovingly decorated her new office for the occasion, covering the floor with a mountain of blankets and pillows, her new desk pushed aside to make room for an old projector whirring away in the middle of the room, tens of movies stacked up on the table it precariously balanced on.

They dived into the fluffy mass, propping themselves up in beanbags and on pillows as Lotor set up the first movie, Lance whooping as the Breakfast Club theme began, prompting a sharp pinch in his side from Keith.

They broke in the new bar with finesse, lounging around watching movies and, during breaks, skidding over the floors and battling each other with mops, reveling in the presence of their family, without the usual patrons to diffuse their fun. The hours slipped by without them even realizing, until the light sweeping across the bar dimmed, candle light creating flickering projections of them against the walls, displaying the way they bounced around, tickling and kissing and laughing their way towards night.

When the sun finally threatened to slip beyond the horizon, Cat, Pidge, Keith and Lance all grouped at the door, exchanging hugs with the others as they wrapped up in their jackets, the remnants of winter still bitterly following them out.

"Wait, Keith, me and Matt have something for you." Shiro announced, nodding towards his van just as Keith was slipping into Lance's car. Keith followed them round to the back of the truck, grinning as Shiro heaved his motorcycle from the back onto the ground, offering him two helmets.

He spun round to Lance excitedly, eyes lit up in a pleading argument he'd already won. Lance sighed, tossing his keys over to his sister mournfully.

"If I die, you can have Blue." He told her mournfully as he glanced at Keith's death machine.

"What do I get?" Pidge piped up curiously.

"You already got my sister, don't push it." Lance deadpanned, "Maybe if you're nice I won't haunt you for the rest of time."

He reluctantly took the helmet Shiro offered him, throwing his leg over the bike behind Keith with a sigh, clinging to his chest as he started the engine. Keith threw his head back in exhilaration, and Lance decided the expression on his face, just visible through his helmet, was entirely worth the risk.

Keith trailed after Cat and Pidge as they pulled out of the lot, feeling Lance behind him turn to wave goodbye to the others over his shoulder. Keith smirked, hearing a yelp as he turned the engine full throttle, speeding into the traffic as Lance tightly wound his arms around his chest.

Despite the fear pulsing through his veins Lance couldn't deny the rush was _incredible-_ but the sight of Keith laughing, head thrown back as he gunned it down the highway was even more spectacular, his back arched as he revved the engine and sent them speeding over the tarmac.

Keith whooped into the open air, sinking lower to feel the engine thrum against his chest, subconsciously shifting back so Lance was draped across his back, crotch wedged against the bottom of his ass so he was almost sitting in his lap. Lance swallowed, brushing it off as an awkward ~~positive~~ negative to riding double- until Keith started to shift, pressing further back against him, wiggling his hips tauntingly.

Keith bit his smirk from his lip as he arched further and further down, till his chest was practically draped over the front dash, Lance's dick grinding into him with every bump in the road. Lance squeezed his eyes shut in a selfless act of self control, becoming harder and harder with every jolt of Keith's body on the bike.

Keith wasn't completely unaware of his torture, but he felt so damn _good_ he couldn't be asked to care. If he sat just right the rumble of the engine vibrated perfectly against his hardening cock, and if he leaned back a little, tipping his hips, letting Lance bear his upper body weight, he could feel the rumbling against his rim, making him feel blissfully hot but also painfully empty.

Once it was too much to take he keened, grinding down on Lance's cock _hard,_ finally getting some reaction, feeling his fingers tighten around his waist. He could hear jack shit over the wind, but just imagining the breathless groan from Lance's lips was enough to spur him on.

He kept up his ministrations until they reached a stop light, and Lance's self-control _snapped,_ and he reached down to growl into Keith's ear.

_"Pull. Over."_

Keith shuddered, Lance's voice raspier and more wrecked than he could fathom, hands obeyed without question, steering them off the highway into a cove sheltered by the trees.

Keith moaned as Lance wrenched off his helmet, engine still churning beneath them as Lance shoved him face down onto the bike, lying over him so he was trapped against the warm seat.

"L- _Lance-"_ He gasped as Lance yanked down his pants and briefs, tilting his hips to give Lance room to take hold of his dick, his palm hot and tight as he fisted him, his other hand splayed over Keith's back to keep him in place.

"Shh, or someone will hear you." Lance grumbled, "God, why do you do shit like this-?"

"Excuse me, _whose_ idea was it to pull over?" Keith was convinced he'd be better at arguing his point without Lance's hand around his cock, squeezing him like a viper.

"Shut the _fuck up,_ you know what you did. Grinding against me like that- you seriously couldn't wait till we got home?" Lance hissed, grinding roughly against the cleft of Keith's ass and _oh god,_ that felt _good._

Keith was absent of any response, mouth lolled open as Lance jerked him off, cock pulsing at the feeling of Lance's own brushing over his sensitive rim. He was probably still loose from that morning, such a short time ago Keith probably still had some of Lance's cum in him.

 _"Oh god."_ Keith groaned at the thought, "Lance, fuck me, _fuck me."_

"No." Lance growled, "Somehow you've managed to make me pissed _and_ horny, so I'm gonna wait till you're on the edge before giving you what you want." 

Keith whined in protest as Lance nipped at his neck, pushing his hair aside to suck a bright purple hickey into his skin. Every flash of headlights in their direction had Keith's cock jerking, from both the fear and exhilaration of the possibility of being caught.

Lance's fingers trailed down to his hole, Keith's pants and underwear resting just under his asscheeks, propping it up, leaving him undressed only enough for Lance to be able to reach his ass and fuck it. It was inexplicably dirty, and so, so hot.

"L-Lube- we don't have..." Keith's breath caught in his throat as Lance's broad finger circled his rim already slick with substance.

"I'm not an idiot, I know how impulsive you are by now." Lance murmured as he drizzled lube over the rest of his fingers, tossing the empty packet from his wallet into the bushes.

"God, you're still loose." Lance bit his lip as he pushed his middle finger into Keith, hooking half of it inside of him and stealing his breath away. He reached for Keith's jaw, tilting it round for better access, wiggling his thigh between Keith's legs, keeping them spread for him to completely sheath his middle finger, beginning to piston it slowly.

 _"Ngh_ Lance, more, I can take more-" Keith begged, sharply cut off when Lance pulled his finger out completely, whimpering and resting his forehead against the dash as his hole clenched with pleasure.

"Look at me." Lance demanded, Keith's head shakily turning so their eyes could meet, Lance's intense, impassioned gaze making him resist a whimper. Keith grinded back, searching for Lance's fingers.

"Keith, no." Lance panted, heaving Keith further up the bike so his ass was no longer dangling off the edge, propped up by the seat, only his feet on the ground and Lance's hands on him keeping the bike up.

Lance held his eyes, bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them forcefully so they were dripping when he pulls them out, the lube watery tasting on his tongue. He positioned his fingers at Keith's entrance, laying his palm on Keith's stomach to lift him up slightly, wiggling his fingers invitingly.

"Ride them." He said in the same commanding tone as before, and just like before Keith obeyed, hunger licking at his pupils as he lowered himself onto those waiting fingers. They gasped in tandem as he took in two at once, rolling his hips and starting to slowly ride back on the digits, Lance holding his hips suspended in the air.

Lance twisted his fingers, gently rubbing against Keith's walls as Keith continued to grind, hips stuttering as Lance leaned down to whisper into his ear.

"You look so good, sweetheart."

Lance was a pro at dirty talk, but nothing got Keith going like the _praise,_ the soft whispered worship in his ear when Lance was feeling especially good- and he hadn't even got his cock in him yet.

"M- _more."_ Keith whined, sucking at his lip when at last Lance listened to him, prodding at his rim with a third finger before sheathing it alongside the other's, Keith's hips rolling languidly as he fucked himself against them.

His boots ground into the gravel as Lance curled his fingers, simultaneously releasing his grip on Keith's hips to start pumping his cock, shoving Keith further up the bike so he could shift onto it, with Keith's back pressed against his chest as he kept sinking down on Lance's fingers, moaning and whimpering for _more, more, more-_

"I'm g-gonna cum, fuck me now, please, La- _Lance."_ Keith stuttered as Lance gave him a final three brutal stabs of his fingers consecutively, yanking them from Keith's hole, exposing it to the cool evening air. Keith swallowed as Lance pulled his asscheeks apart, leaning down to blow over the sensitive rim, prodding it with his tongue tentatively. 

"Oh god, Lance _please don't-"_

Keith's pleads went unheard as Lance dipped his tongue into his hole, blinking up to meet Keith's eyes as he used his thumbs to spread him apart, dipping the tips in teasingly.

"God, you're so wet." Lance appreciated as he withdrew his tongue and thumbs, finding fluid stuck between his fingers. He licked at them slowly, hearing Keith keen sweetly at the sound of his tongue slurping at his fingers.

Keith glanced round as he heard the clink of a buckle, eyes bugging appreciatively when Lance finally pulled himself from his boxers, thumbing at the round cockhead blissfully.

"I always forget how big you are till I see it." Keith bit his lip as Lance kicked his jeans off, slowly pumping his cock in his hand.

"And you can take all of it." Lance hummed, "Such a good boy." He whispered into his ear, biting at the shell of his lobe.

Keith panted, cock dripping as Lance jerked over it a final few times before sliding his bare cock between Keith's asscheeks, always drawing it out till the last second. Keith could feel it every time the fat head snagged on his rim, just as eager as them both to drive itself home, to pound into him till he was a blubbering mess.

"Ready?" Lance breathed into his ear, circling his rim with his cock. Keith spun his neck round, claiming Lance's lips and taking him by surprise, taking his momentary lapse as an opportunity to grab his cock, sinking himself onto it in a fluid motion, the flesh breaching and stretching out his ass just like he needed.

 _"Naughty."_ Lance growled, slapping his hand down on Keith's ass, squeezing the flesh as his hand made contact with it. Keith threw his head back and _whined,_ sinking lower onto Lance, relishing the feel of hot, thick cock pushing at his insides.

Lance knew no matter how much control Keith handed over to him when they had sex, he always relished in the few times he could take some for himself, bracing himself for whatever punishment Lance deemed appropriate, usually a few slaps to his ass or an extra minute of begging, each of which Keith enjoyed anyway.

He could feel every inch of Lance as he filled him up, hot and hard and so big it felt like there wasn't any part of his body he wasn't touching. Keith adored the sting, each pang reminding him of Lance's presence, of how it must look for his body to be taking in something so large. If he closed his eyes tight enough he could picture a side profile of their embrace, Lance's cock bulging out from his stomach.

"Mmmm, you feel so good." Keith breathed as he tossed his head against Lance's shoulder. Hell he was still descending, he could only imagine the bliss of actually being _fucked_ out in the open like this, one scream of pleasure from being discovered.

"Last bit- that's it, good boy." Lance panted, running his hand through Keith's hair as he finally rested on top of Lance, so full to the brim that he could almost taste him in his throat.

"Do you wanna move, or should I push you down and fuck you?" Lance murmured as he caressed Keith's body, momentarily pushing against his abdomen to feel his cock inside the channel of his ass, pulsing with need for release. He sighed when Keith shook his head, using the grip of his thighs against the side of the bike to lift himself so Lance was half sheathed, only to slowly drop back down.

"No, I like it like this. Can feel all of you." Keith breathed, sitting up a little further, reaching under his shirt and tugging on his nipples with a barely concealed whimper as Lance throbbed larger, making his next decent downwards more painful but oh so worth it.

"Sh, you're okay. Nice and slow... that’s a good boy..." Lance whispered, hands moving to hold onto Keith's hips, his feet planted against the ground to keep the bike steady. The thrusts were shallow, and so slow Lance had to grit his teeth to hold himself back from slamming Keith down and fucking him hard against the seat, the engine thrumming where they were connected and vibrating through Keith's wrecked hole. The thought made him groan, and his fingers gripped Keith's waist harder.

Keith keened softly, dropping at a faster place till he was steadily bouncing on Lance's cock, taking what he needed without any regard for how _stifling_ the mix of sensations was for Lance, Keith's beautiful face lax and panting, and his round ass making the most delectable noises every time he reached base, a wet, filthy sound that made Lance's blood sing.

Keith thrust down on him shallowly, raising off the base barely an inch before slamming himself back down against, the metal ball at the tip of Lance's cock pressing sweetly and surely against his prostate, making him cry out into the night.

"R-Right there, Lance fuck!" Keith fell forwards, hands clenching around the handle bars. Lance took the opportunity to shove Keith all the way down onto his stomach, leaning back to take in the swell of his ass, the dimples of his back just above, and the stretch of his hole around Lance's base, pink and swollen from his cock. He leaned down so his body was pressed against the length of Keith's, biting the shell of his ear, making him whine.

"If you scream then I'll make you drive us home, and I won't let you cum until I've fucked you twice." Lance growled into his ear, making Keith's eyes widen as he slapped a hand over his mouth, slowly starting to pull out. Already anticipating what was coming next Keith squeezed his eyes shut and flailed his weak legs, to no avail as Lance wrapped his arm around his chest, holding him still as he ruthlessly slammed back inside of him.

Keith could do nothing but cry and whimper in pleasure through the barrier of Lance's fingers, body held stone still by Lance's strong arms as he roughly fucked him, tears collecting at the edge of his eyes. He lurched as Lance flicked against his nipple, attempting to escape the overflowing pleasure, the engine rumbling right against his sac as he moved, tearing an animalistic howl from his throat.

Keith's head flung back and he _came,_ dirtying the seat as Lance fucked him right through it, relentless in his bruising pace, stimulating Keith's prostate as his cock pulsed floods of cum out of him.

"Next time you're gonna cum untouched. I'm gonna film you, show you how pretty you look when you're shaking around my dick. You're so beautiful, Keith, so sweet, let me feel you come."

He was crying, now, tears of pleasure collecting against Lance's palm still wrapped around his mouth and chin, his drool seeping between the webbing of his fingers. When Lance finally began to slow Keith was more overstimulated than Lance had ever made him, trembling against the seat.

"That's it, baby," Lance murmured into his hair, "I can feel you coming- you're so tight when you come." He sighed as he continued to thrust into him, rubbing his piercing against his prostate a final time, milking the last drop of cum out of him.

Keith went lax against the seat, panting and shaking from aftershocks, throat shredded from screaming, breaths as ragged as stones rolling over pavement.

"W-Was that too much?" Lance whispered worriedly after a minute went by, without a word from Keith.

"S-So, _good."_ Keith finally drawled, "Feels so good, Lance." He sighed.

Lance breathed in relief as Keith reached around, tugging impatiently at his hair.

"F-Finish." He demanded, and Lance glanced at him doubtfully.

"Keith that was pretty intense, you don't have to-"

Keith rolled his eyes, lifting off of Lance's cock with a wince, spinning around, legs like jelly. As soon as they were face to face Lance took his mouth with his own, Keith leaning into him as he lazily kissed back. The piercing in his tongue clacked against Lance's teeth as he pushed at Lance's knees, a gentle but firm pressure to push him back enough Keith could successfully lean over, sucking the head of his cock into his mouth.

"Ah god, baby." Lance threw his head back, hands tangling in Keith's hair, dick pulsing with blood at the feel of his lover's lips around him.

"Sucking my cock like such a good boy, fuck you were made for this, made for me." Lance thumbed at his cheeks, cock sliding all the way home as Keith began to deepthroat him, Lance's fingers in his hair, on his face, a soothing presence for him. He focused on breathing out of his nose as Lance swore, broken Spanish falling from his lips.

 _"Dios,_ Keith, you're good, so good." Lance bit his lip, "Oh, _mami,_ you're so perfect, I love you so much."

And somehow even those tender words held a place amongst the filthiness surrounding them, making Keith struggle to remember to breathe, saliva dripping from the edges of his mouth.

"You're drooling all over my cock, baby, making me so wet. I'm so close, sweetheart, just a few more seconds."

The two piercings in his mouth clacked together every time Lance fucked inside his throat, keeping a languid pace, as not to choke Keith to death. His hands scrambled for Lance's as tears flooded from his eyes, squeezing the Cuban’s thigh and fingers desperately as his hips stuttered.

"I know, baby, I know. I'm almost there. Fuck you look so good." And it was so true, Keith looked perfect with his lips around Lance's cock, so much it almost rivaled his fucked out expression whenever Lance stuffed him full of his cock- _almost._

Keith groaned, digging his fingers in harder as Lance rubbed against his pierced tongue, finding solace in his grip in Keith's hair as his cock pulsed in warning.

"I'm coming, Keith-!" Lance came with a shout, coming down Keith's throat, hot and smooth. Keith blinked wearily, raking his fingers down Lance's thighs and lower back.

"Oh god, _Keith."_ Lance whispered as Keith pulled off with a gasp, pulling him against his chest as Keith panted against him, reveling in the feeling of Lance's fingers, cupping his head and smoothing through his hair.

"I... fucking... _love you."_ Keith sighed between kisses planted carefully against his lips, oxygen returning to him in excess, lungs filled to the brim.

"Think you can drive us back?" Lance grinned against his lips, hearing Keith moan mournfully.

"Guess I don't really have a choice- _you_ can't drive Red."

"If we crash, it's on you." Lance shrugged, tenderly lifting Keith's jeans back past his hips, zipping them up, careful not to brush his sore hole. Keith winced as he straddled the bike again, Lance's presence at his back, squeezing his thighs and hips in a mix of assurance and apology.

They reached the apartment five minutes later. Lance helpfully offered to carry Keith in, Keith's legs so weak he could barely stand. Keith hummed against Lance's neck contentedly as Lance lifted him onto his back, carefully carrying him up the stairs to the apartment. Pidge and Cat were sat around the table chuckling when they entered, glancing up at them with identical cocked brows. Lance froze, waiting in silence until Cat finally uttered:

"Ya'll are nasty."

"Cállate, assholes." Lance scowled as he let Keith down, holding him close to his chest, kissing his forehead and kicking their bedroom door shut behind him as he stepped into the quiet room, hearing Cat's door close down the hall as her and Pidge also adjourned to sleep.

He held Keith up tenderly as he dressed him into loose pajamas, tucking him in and shucking off his own jeans and shirt before collapsing next to him. Keith formed a small smile as Lance's eyes fluttered drowsily, brushing his fingers over Lance's lips and cheeks. Lance sighed softly in content, kissing Keith's fingers with the rest of the energy he had remaining, before dozing off, eyes blinking shut.

Tucking himself against Lance's chest, Keith exhaled for what felt like the first time in a while. Memories of soft spoken words lulled him into a suspended daze, on the precipice of sleep, but with fleeting images of the one he loved most flitting through his mind like a film reel. In Lance's words he was safe, because they weren't only words- they were implications of his presence, for the good times and the bad.

Even knowing Keith's faults, and there were many, Lance was there to listen, to defend, to love. He understood his anxieties more than Keith himself, and his actions that were so illogical to others ran with clarity in Lance's brain. He loved him more than he could fathom, and could only hope Lance loved him as much as he did.

He'd been a broken record, stuck on the same traumatic chorus, repeating over and over and over again. But now he had a fresh start, a clean slate, a new verse, all because of Lance. And with that knowledge, he knew they could do anything, be anything, at each other’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ The End ~  
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> 


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